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Sciences 
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CIHM/ICMH 

Microfiche 

Series. 


CIHM/ICMH 
Collection  de 
microfiches. 


Canadian  Institute  for  Historical  Microreproductions  /  Institut  Canadian  de  microreproductions  historiques 


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Bi 


Technical  and  Bibliographic  Notes/Notes  techniques  et  bibliographiques 


The 
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The  Institute  has  attempted  to  obtain  the  best 
original  copy  available  for  filming.  Features  of  this 
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D 


D 


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Coloured  covors/ 
Couverture  de  couleur 


I     I    Covers  damaged/ 


Couverture  endommag6e 


Covers  restored  and/or  laminated/ 
Couverture  restaur6e  et/ou  pellicul6e 


j      I    Cover  tStle  missing/ 


Le  titre  de  couverture  manque 


I      I    Coloured  maps/ 


Curtes  giographiques  en  couleur 


□    Coloured  init  (i.e.  other  than  blue  or  black)/ 
Encre  de  couleur  (i.e.  autre  que  bleue  ou  noire) 

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Bound  with  other  material/ 
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Additional  comments:/ 
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L'Institut  a  microfilm^  le  meilleur  exemplaire 
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une  image  reproduite,  ou  qui  peuvent  exiger  une 
modification  dans  la  mdthode  normale  de  filmage 
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n 

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Coloured  pages/ 
Pages  de  couleur 

Pages  damaged/ 
Pages  endommagdes 

Pages  restored  &nd/or  laminated/ 
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Pages  d6color6es,  tachetdes  ou  piqu6es 

Pages  detached/ 
Pages  d6tach6es 

Showthrough/ 
Transparence 


The 
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of  tl 
fiim 


Orifl 

begi 

the 

sion 

othc 

first 

sion 

or  il 


I      I    Quality  of  print  varies/ 


Quality  in^gale  de  I'impression 

Includes  supplementary  material/ 
Comprend  du  materiel  suppl^mentaire 


The 
shal 
TINI 
whi( 

Map 
difff 
entii 
begi 
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T&qii 
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Only  edition  available/ 
Seule  Edition  disponible 

Pages  wholly  or  partially  obscured  by  errata 
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Les  pages  totalement  ou  partiellement 
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obtenir  la  meilleure  image  possible. 


This  item  is  filmed  at  the  reduction  ratio  checked  below/ 

Co  document  est  filmi  au  taux  de  reduction  indiquA  ci-dessous. 

10X  14X  18X  22X 


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16X 


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28X 


32X 


The  copy  filmed  here  hes  been  reproduced  thanks 
to  the  generosity  of: 

University  of  British  Columbia  Library 


L'exemplaire  film6  fut  reproduit  grdce  d  la 
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fiiming  contract  specifications. 


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other  original  copies  are  filmed  beginning  on  the 
first  page  with  a  printed  or  illustrMted  impres- 
sion, and  ending  on  the  last  page  with  a  printed 
or  illustrated  impression. 


The  last  recorded  frame  on  each  microfiche 
shall  contain  the  symbol  — ^>  (meaning  "CON- 
TINUED"), or  the  symbol  V  (meaning  "END"), 
whichever  applies. 

Maps,  plates,  charts,  etc.,  may  be  filmed  at 
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right  and  top  to  bottom,  as  many  frames  as 
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method: 


Les  images  suivantes  ont  6t6  reproduites  avec  le 
plus  grand  soin,  compte  tenu  de  la  condition  et 
de  la  nettetd  de  l'exemplaire  film6,  et  en 
conformity  avec  l&s  conditions  du  contrat  de 
filmage. 

Les  exemplaires  originaux  dont  la  couverture  en 
papier  est  imprimis  sont  filmds  en  commengant 
par  le  premier  plat  et  en  terminant  soit  par  la 
dernidre  page  qui  comporte  une  empreinte 
d'impression  ou  d'illustration,  soit  par  le  second 
plat,  selon  la  cas.  Toua  les  autres  exemplaires 
originaux  sont  film6s  en  commengant  par  la 
pramidre  page  qui  comporte  une  empreinte 
d'impression  ou  d'illustration  et  en  terminant  par 
la  dernidre  page  qui  comporte  une  telle 
empreinte. 

Un  des  symboles  suivants  apparaTtra  sur  la 
derniire  image  de  cheque  microfiche,  selon  le 
cas:  le  symbols  — ♦-  signifie  "A  SUIVRE",  le 
symbols  V  signifie  "FIN". 

Les  cartes,  planches,  tableaux,  etc.,  peuvent  dtre 
filmds  d  des  taux  de  reduction  diffdrents. 
Lorsque  le  document  est  trop  grand  pour  dtre 
reproduit  en  un  seul  clich6,  il  est  film6  d  partir 
de  I'angle  sup6rieur  gauche,  de  gauche  d  droite, 
et  de  haut  en  bas,  en  prenant  le  nombre 
d'images  ndcessaire.  Les  diagrammes  suivants 
illustrent  la  m^thole. 


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THE  LIBRARY 


THE  UNIVERSITY  OF 
BRITISH  COLUMBIA 


Gift  oj 
M.  R.  McicMillan 


ZIGZi^ 


ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS  IN  THE  GREAT  NORTHWEST. 


The  Zigzag  Series. 

BY 

HEZEKIAH    BUTTERWORTH. 

ZIGZAG  yOfJA'iVEYS  JAr  I-:UKOJ'K. 
Z/CZAG  JOURNEYS  IN  CLASS /C  LANDS. 
ZJCZAG  JOURNEYS  IN   'JlfE   ORIENT. 
ZIGZAG   JOURNEYS  IN  THE   OCCIDE.\n\ 
ZIGZAG   JOURNEYS  IN  NORTHERN  LANDS. 
ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS  IN  ACADIA. 
ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS  IN   THE  LEVANI\ 
ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS  IN  THE  SUNNY  .SOUTH. 
ZIGZAG   JOURNEYS  IN  INDIA. 
ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS  IN   THE  ANTIPODES. 
ZIGZAG      JOURNEYS     IN      THE      BRITISH 
ISLES. 

ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS  IN  THE  GREAT  NORTH 
WEST. 

ESTES   AND   LAURIAT.   Publishers. 

BOSTON,    MASS. 


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Zigzag  Journeys 


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Great  Northwest; 


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A  TRIP  TO  THE  AMERICAN  SWITZERLAND. 


BY 


HEZEKIAH    BUTTERWORTH. 


FULLY     ILLUSTRATED. 


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ESTES     AND     LAURIAT, 


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Copyright,  1S90, 
BV     ESTFS     AND     LaURIAT. 


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Univkrsity  Press: 
John  Wilson  and  Son,  Camkridge,  U.S.A. 


PREFACE. 


It 


j|HlS  twelfth  volume  of  the  Zigzag  books  wn-s  w/itten  after 
a  journey  over  the  Canadian  Pacific  Railroad  to  Van- 
couver, the  cities  of  the  Puget  Sound,  and  Columbia 
River.  Its  aim  is  to  give  in  a  picturesque  way  a  view 
of  the  scenery,  industrial  opportunities,  and  romances 
of  the  great  Northwest. 

When  the  writer  first  began  these  books  of  the  stories  and  legends 
of  places  and  of  travel  with  interpolated  tales,  with  a  view  of  helping 
home  and  school  studies,  he  had  no  thought  that  the  demand 
for  them  would  continue  beyond  a  few  volumes.  But  parents  and 
teachers  have  found  them  helpful  in  developing  the  intelligence  of 
the  young,  and  in  creating  a  taste  for  better  reading  ;  so  the  series  has 
been  continued  in  compliance  with  the  public  wish  and  patronage. 

The  author  is  indebted  to  "  Harper's  Weekly  "  for  permission  to 
republish  "  Legends  of  the  Puget  Sound,"  and  also  to  John  Fitz- 
maurice  for  permission  to  use  in  an  abridged  form  his  excellent  story 
of  "  DuLuth  and  the  Jesuit's  Sun-glass,"  a  legend  worthy  of  the 
painter,  composer,  and  poet. 

The  portrait  with  autograph,  and  the  biographical  notice  abridged 
from  the  New  York  "  Journalist,"  are  by  their  kind  permission  inserted 
by  the  publishers. 

H.  B. 


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BIOGRAPHY.   . 


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R.  HEZEKIAH  BUTTERWORTH  was  born  in 
Warren,  R.  I.,  December  22,  1839,  his  family  being 
among  the  earliest  settlers  of  Rhode  Island.  He 
grew  up  on  the  old  estates  where  he  worked,  in  the 
mean  time  studying  and  obtaining  his  education  by 
teaching,  and  writing  for  the  popular  papers  of  the  day.  In  1870 
he  became  connected  with  the  "  Youth's  Companion "  as  assistant 
editor,  a  position  which  he  has  held  for  nearly  twenty  years.  While 
engaged  in  his  editorial  duties  some  twelve  years  ago,  the  publishing 
house  of  Estes  &  Lauriat  showed  him  a  popular  French  work  which 
gave  an  account  of  a  French  schoolmaster  who  took  a  class  of  boys 
on  a  journey  with  a  view  of  giving  them  object-lessons  in  history. 
Mr.  Butterworth,  beli'..ving  that  books  of  narrative  and  historic  stories 
interwoven  would  be  likely  to  prove  useful  to  home  and  school  edu- 
cation, wrote  a  specimen  book  on  the  French  plan.  It  was  entitled 
"  Zigzag  Journeys  in  Europe."  The  book  was  immensely  popular, 
and  about  forty  thousand  copies  of  it  have  been  sold.  The  educa- 
tional journals  and  the  press  generally  saw  the  purpose  of  the  book, 
and  very  highly  commended  it.  One  New  York  paper,  however,  a 
critical  journal,  ridiculed  it,  and  said,  "  He  threatens  to  go  on."  Mr. 
Butterworth  did  2:0  on.  Twelve  books  of  the  Zii^zasf  series  have  been 
written,  and  some  three  hundred  thousand  volumes  sold,  proving 
conclusively  the  correctness  of  his  theory. 


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BIOGRAPHY. 


Mr.  Butterworth  loves  the  quiet  of  country  home-life ;  he  has  a 
farm  home  in  Warren,  R.  I.,  one  in  Bristol  in  the  same  State,  and  a 
cottage  and  orange-grove  in  Belleview,  Florida. 

Socially  Mr.  Butterworth  is  a  delightful  man  to  meet.  When  he 
greets  you,  his  hand-shake  is  cordial  and  his  welcome  warm  and 
hearty,  putting  his  visitor  at  once  at  perfect  ease. 


I 


CONTENTS. 


— ♦- — 


Pack 
Chapter 

I.    The  American  SwrrzERLANo ^5 

II.     Planning  a  Trip  ro  the  Northwest 3° 

III.  Some  Wonderful  Statistics ^^ 

IV.  The  Comedy  for  the  Holidays 7 1 

V.     Why  the  Montana  Girl  was  not  surprised 97 

VI.     Over  the  Canadian  Pacific  Railroad  to  Winnipeg.  -  The  Beauty  of 

THE  Lakes  ;  or,  the  Sun-fire  :  a  Dramatic  Story  of  Sault  Ste.  Mar.e  i  i8 

VII.     A  Thousand  Miles  to  the  Mountains ^43 

VIII.     Stories  of  the  Canadian  River  Songs ^9 

206 

IX.     Banff 

X^.    In  the  American  Switzerland ^^^ 

XI.     Arthur  Burns's  Ranch 

XII.     The  New  Star  on  the  Flag ^ 


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ILLUSTRATIONS. 


Page 

Tacoma,  the  Beautiful      .     .     .     Frontispiece 

Portrait  of  Hezekiah  Buttervvorth  .     .  8 

The  Land  of  Promise i6 

"  Foaminji  with  Cascades" i8 

"  J'inwacles  clothed  with  Forests  of  Firs"  19 
A    Great    "  VVonderhind    of    Mountain 

Scenery  " 21 

"Tliat  Immense  Northwestern  Empire"  23 
"Sunset  Skies  hke  those  which  cover 

tlie  Ionian  Isles  " 25 

"  Picturesque  Clear-water  Streams  "  .     ,.  27 

"  Peaks  that  pierced  the  Heavens  "    .     .  28 

On  the  Thames,  be^'o-v  London      ...  31 

Preparing  for  Sea 35 

Animals  of  the  Northwest    .....  39 

Birds  of  the  Northwest 43 

Seattle,  the  '.  ndiar.  Chief 46 

Tailpiece j2 

A  Muml)le  but  Happy  Home     ....  54 

Sheep-shearinjf 55 

Hayintj;  on  the  Prairie 56 

Lost  Shuep 59 

A  Farm  in  the  Northwest 60 

"  Impatient  for  their  Breakfasts  "  .  .    •  60 

Reinct.uit  to  go  Home 61 

"  No  Architect  ever  dreamed  of  such  a 

Structure  before  " 63 

"  He   would  sit  down  on  a  Log  by  the 

Roadside" 69 

Tailpiece "jo 


A  Hardy  Frontier  Lad    .     . 
Herding  Cattle  on  the  Plains 
Gathering  the  Harvest     . 
Modern  Prairie  Farming 
In  the  Canadian  Woods 
A  Herd  of  Mountain  Sheep 
A  Meadow  Brook  .     .     . 
A  Winding  Mountain  Stream 
Resting  for  the  Night 
Liverpool  on  a  Foggy  Day 
The  Steamship  "America" 
On  the  Mersey  .... 
The  Burning  Vessel    .     . 
The  Banks  of  Newfoundland 
The  Gulf  of  St.  Lawrence 
Old  Houses  in  (2uebec 
A  Street  in  Quebec      .     . 
Falls  of  the  Montmorenci 
The  Chaudiere  Falls    . 


Toboii<ianinsT       .... 
Cedar  Bay,  near  Ottawa  . 

Sault  Ste.  Marie 

Kideau  Falls,  (Jttawa  .... 
A  War  Canoe  of  the  Objibwas  . 
'l"he  Parliament  Buildings,  Ottawa 
The  Llnivcrsity  of  Toronto  .     . 
A  Branch  of  the  St.  Lawrence  . 
An  Island  in  the  Lake  of  the  Wood 
A  Prairie  Station     .     . 
City  Hall.  Winnipeg    .     . 


Pack 

73 
79 
85 
91 
99 

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104 
106 
107 
108 
109 
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116 
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119 
120 

121 

122 

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XIV 


ILLUSTRA  TIONS. 


Rafting :  breaking  a  Glut 

Tlie  Thousand  Islands 

South  Saskatchewan  River,  Medicine 
Hat,  Assiniboia 

A  (iood  Harvest 

Portaging  a  Canoe  in  the  Woods  of  Canada 

Early  Travelling  on  the  Plains  .... 

Tailpiece     ........... 

The  Nipigon 

"  Vive  la  Canadienne  " 

An  Emigrant  Train  crossing  the  Plains  . 

Repulsing  an  Attack  on  an  Emigrant 
Train 

A  Successful  Assault  on  a  Party  of  Pio- 
neers   

Preparing  a  Home  in  the  West      .     .     . 

Rat  Portage,  Lake  of  the  Woods  .     .     . 

The  Rocky  Mountains  from  Elbow  River 

A  View  on  the  Elbow  River 

One  of  the  Hudson  Bay  Company's  Sta- 
tions      

Banff  Springs  Hotel,  Canadian  National 
Park 

Mount  Stephen,  near  the  Summit  of  the 
Rockies 

Mount  Stephen  House       

Hydraulic  Mining  in  the  Rockies  .     .     . 

Rocky  Mountains,  near  Canmore  .     .     . 

Canoeing  in  the  Northwest 

A  Home  in  tlie  Northwest 

Goffe,  the  Regicide,  at  Hadley  .... 

Glacier  House,  Selkirk  Mountains     .     . 

Pearly  Settlers  .......... 

The  Great  Glacier  of  tlie  Selkirks      .     . 

The  Olympian  Mountains 

Yale,  on  the  Eraser  River 

Ottertail  Range.  Rocky  Mountains,  B.  C. 


Page 
148 

151 

158 
161 

168 
171 

179 

189 
193 

•97 

201 

202 


204 
207 

211 

213 
217 

22  I 

225 
229 

235 
239 
244 
247 
251 
254 
255 


Pagk 

Cariboo  Road  Bridge  over  the  Eraser 

River 258 

Hotel    Vancouver,    Vancouver,    British 

Columbia 259 

On  the  Homathco  River,  British  Colum- 
bia       260 

Trading-ships  on  the  Northwest  Coast   .  263 
Vancouver  naming  the  Places  on  Puget 

Sound 267 

The    "  Discovery "    on    the    Northwest 

Coast 271 

Tailpiece 274 

A  Settler's  Hut 275 

A  Frontier  House 276 

TI.2  Great  BluflF,  Thompson  River      .     .  277 

The  Peace  River 279 

A  Cariboo  Wagon- road 280 

Among  the  Islands  of  the  Gulf  of  Georgia  2S2 

•'  Me  and  the  Bar  's  Coming  "    ....  285 

A  Vineyard  in  British  Columbia     .     .     .  287 

Indian  Salmon  Cache 288 

Indian  Graves 289 

View  from  Esquimak 291 

Seal-driving 293 

The  Wapiti 294 

On  the  Coast  of  British  Columbia  .     .     .  295 

Seymour  Narrows,  Canadian  Pacific  Coast  296 

Roadway  in  British  Columbia    ....  297 

Tailpiece 299 

Sunset  on  the  Pacific  Coast 301 

Mount  Taconia 3^7 

The  Oldest  Church-tower  in  .\merica  309 

Forest  Giants 3' ' 

"  There  is  Time  enough  to  finisli  the  Game 

and  beat  the  Spaniards  too  "  .     .     .     .  315 
Nature's    Monument,    Canadian    Pacific 

Coast  . 3 '9 


ZIGZAG   JOURNEYS 


IN   THE 


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GREAT    NORTHWEST. 


CHAPTER   I. 


THE  AMERICAN   SWITZERLAND. 


PARTY  of  Americans  on  their  way  to  Liverpool  to 
take  a  returning  steamer  were  taking  a  lunch  in  the 
quiet  dining-room  of  the  Golden  Cross  Hotel,  at  the 
West  End,  London.  Some  of  them  had  been  to  Hyde 
Park  to  see  the  riding,  some  to  the  "  Zoo,"  and  one  of 
them  to  the  Guild  Hall  to  visit  the  queer  effigies  of  the  giants  Gog 
and  Magog,  that  have  been  famous  characters  in  London's  history 
for  years,  and  the  originals  of  which  used  to  appear  at  the  Lord 
Mayor's  shows  before  the  great  fire. 

Among  the  party,  but  not  a  returning  traveller,  was  a  single 
Knglishman,  Henry  Lette,  or  "  Harry  Lette,"  as  he  was  called,  who 
had  been  an  explorer  in  the  service  of  the  Dominion  government 
in  the  Northwest  Territories. 

Several  members  of  the  party  had  been  to  Switzerland,  and  the 
conversation  turned  upon  their  adventurous  experiences  in  the  land 
of  the  mountains,  lakes,  glaciers,  and  waterfalls ;  the  beauties  of 
Geneva,   Intcrlachen,  and    Lucerne. 


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ZIGZAG   JOURNEYS  JN  THE   GREAT  NORTHWEST. 


"  However  picturesque  may  be 
the  high  peaks  of  the  Andes  or  of 
India,"  said  an  American  teacher, 
whom  we  will  call  Mr.  Brookes, 
"  thev  cannot  be  as  noble  and  im- 
pressive  as  the  Alps.  There  is  no 
land  like  Switzerland,  and  there 
are  no  mountains    in    the    world    so   grand    as    the    Alps." 

"  Have  you  ever  visited  British  Columbia  ? "    quietly  asked    Mr. 


THK  LAND   OF   PROMISF. 


1 


i 


THE  AMERICAN  SIVITZERLANV. 


17 


:ed    Mr. 


ette,  "or  followed  the  river  Wapta  (Kicking  Horse)  down  the 
|Rocky  Mountains  to  the  Puget  Sound?" 

"  No,"  said  Mr.  Brookes.  "  I  have  heard  that  the  Rocky  Moun- 
ains  in  British  Columbia  are  very  grand  ;  of  course  the  Rocky  Moun- 
tains and  the  mountain  systems  of  the  Sierras  are  territorially  much 
larger  than  Switzerland,  but  they  do  not  have  the  sublimity  and 
poetry  of  Switzerland  ;  do  you  think  they  do?  The  sky  of  Italy  does 
not  hang  over  them ;  they  do  not  enchant  you  and  overawe  you. 
So  I  am  led  to  understand." 

"The  greater  Switzerland  is  in  America,"  said  Mr.  Lette.  "A 
few  months  ago  I  stood  at  the  foot  of  a  glacier  in  British  Columbia 
that  was  nearly  forty  miles  square,  and  probably  contained  more 
solid  ice  than  all  the  glaciers  you  have  seen  in  Europe.  Over  that 
glacier  rose  a  peak  a  mile  and  a  half  high,  like  a  granite  spire  of  a 
gigantic  ice  cathedral,  and  around  it  were  clustered  pinnacles  white 
with  snow,  foaming  with  cascades,  and  clothed  ;vith  forests  of  firs, 
some  of  the  trees  in  which  were  of  such  wonderful  size  and  height 
that  you  would  think  me  a  Faron  Munchausen  were  I  to  describe 
them.  The  Alps,  as  you  say,  are  small  in  extent  in  comparison  with 
the  great  Rocky  Mountain  system,  but  I  cannot  agree  with  you  in 
regard  to  their  superiority  in  grandeur  and  beauty.  Did  you  ever 
meet  any  one  who  had  seen  the  Bow  River  and  Devil's  Head  Lake, 
at  Banff  Hot  Springs,  in  the  Canadian   National   Park  ?  " 

"No,"  said  Mr.  Brookes.  "The  Canadian  National  Park,  to  my 
mind,  is  merely  a  name." 

"  And  yet  it  is  destined  to  be  the  Baden-Baden  of  America.  The 
Hot  Springs  of  Sulphur  Mountain  are  the  best  known  cure  for  certain 
rlieumatic  diseases.  But  that  is  not  to  the  point.  If  ever  you  shall 
take  a  row  on  the  Bow  River,  and  make  a  study  of  its  clear  emerald 
waters  under  the  great  shadows  of  Cascade  Mountains,  —  waters  that 
niiglit  have  been  the  gardens  of  Undine  or  fairy  sprites,  —  you  will  be 
likely  to  change  your  views  in  regard  to  the  beauty  of  the  American 


:i 


f 

n 

!'• 

'M 

\ '' 

■ .]-» 

V' 

■I'l^l 

'■!' 

;' 

'>M 

f: 

■;>]•' 

'') 

<,< 

I '" 

i  h 

11 

im 

' !  ra 

i 

i  1 

:1 

4 

i  I 

m 


ii 


■<;i5! 


-m 


vm 


'wwa^- 


^"■^^"Bl 


■     .-■■^■■^         'IT 


:^  .rr 


^ 

^ 

1 

' 

1 

1 

^ 

K 


■ 


i8 


Z/GZ/iG  JOURNEYS  IN  THE   GREAT  NORTHWEST. 


Alps  ;  and  should 
you  ever  see  a  sun- 
set on  the  Puget 
Sound  and  on  Mt 
Tacoma,  at  Seattle 
or   Tacoma,   or   in 


WITH  CASCADES." 


the  violet   waters 
of  Elliott  Bay  or 
Commencemen  t 
Bay,  you  will  find 
that     there     are 
Italics  and  Flori- 
das  that  yet  await  the  poet  and  the 
painter.     The   fact    is — pardon    my 
plainness  —  you    Americans    do    not 
know   your    own   country,  nor  02irs ; 
for  the  Puget  Sound  Empire  belongs 
partly  to  the  Dominion  and  partly  to 
the  United  States.     No  one  who  has 
been  to  Banff  or  the  Glacier  House, 
to   Elliott    Bay   or  Tacoma,  will  ex- 
perience    surprise    on    visiting     the 


5 


THE  AMERICAN  SWITZERLAND. 


19 


Alps  or  Italy.     A  June  sunset  on  the  aerial  dome  of  Mount  Tacoma, 
14,444  feet  high,  with  its  changing  splendors,  has  no  equal  in  beauty 


PINNACLES  CLOTHED   WITH   FORESTS   OF  FIRS. 


on  the  Italian  Apennines,  nor  are  there  any  skies  in  Europe  more 
lovely  than  those  of  the  long  twilights  of  the  Puget  Sound.  I  have 
seen  the  Salvation  Army  on  the  plateau  at  West  Seattle,  singing  from 


ifti 


m\ 


le.'i 


m 


m 


Jfl 


:|l 


''X 


-mmm*<im*^.. 


i 


I  1 


-mMM 


20 


ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS  IN  THE  GREAT  NORTHWEHT. 


their  finely  printed  hymn-books  in  the  light  of  the  red  twilight  at  half- 
past  nine  o'clock. 

"  You  may  think  me  partial,  but  the  greater  wonderland  of  moun- 
tain scenery  is  not  the  Alps,  but  British  Columbia,  —  the  mighty  sweep 
of  the  Rockies  and  the  Sierras.  The  Columbia  River  with  the  surprise 
of  Mount  Hood  is  in  itself,  and  apart  from  traditions,  more  beautiful 
than  the  Rhine  ;  and  the  Wapta  is  the  true  poem  of  all  waters." 

"  Then  we  have  been  visiting  Europe  second-hand,"  said  an  Ameri- 
can lady,  "like  one  who  misses  the  date,  and  goes  to  the  fair  the 
day  after  the  sights  and  scenes.  We  ought  to  have  gone  to  the 
Puget  Sound  country  before  going  to  Switzerland." 

"  In  that  case  your  present  visit  would  have  made  you  perfectly 
satisfied  with  your  own  country.  Europe  is  covered  with  American 
artists,  musicians,  and  poets,  hurrying  hither  and  thither  in  search 
of  beauty  and  inspiration.  Your  truly  great  artists  are  those  who 
have  eyes  to  see  the  wonders  of  your  own  land." 

An  English  servant  was  listening  eagerly  to  Mr.  Lette. 

"  Beg  pardon,  sir;  but  what  kind  of  a  country  would  that  be  for 
a  poor  man  to  get  a  livin'  in  .'* " 

"  You  are  excusable,  quite.  '  would  ask  that  question  myself 
were  I  in  your  place.  The  best  opportunity  in  all  the  world  for  a 
poor  man  lies  in  British  Columl  l,  Washington,  and  Oregon.  The 
climate  is  a  long  April  day.  The  governments  will  give  you  a  farm 
that  will  produce  almost  everytl  ,ng ;  fuel  costs  nothing;  there  is 
plenty  of  work  for  industrious  ..ands  ;  and  the  future  of  that  great 
empire  is  the  future  of  the  progress  of  the  world.  The  new  and  the 
greater  America  is  there.  Vancouver  is  likely  one  day  to  rival  Mon- 
treal, and  Seattle,  New  York.  The  gods  have  saved  the  best  of  the 
feast  to  the  last." 

"  Is  n't  your  language  rather  Oriental } "  asked  a  quiet-looking 
woman.  "A  son  of  one  of  my  neighbors  went  to  Seattle,  but  he 
came  back  again  somewhat  poorer  than  he  started." 


4X  .? 


THE  AMERICAN  SWITZERLAND. 


91 


"  Did  he  amount  to  anything  at  home?" 

"  No  ;  he  had  n't  any  great  amount  of  force." 

"  People  who  amount  to  nothing  at  home  have  just  the  same 
value  wherever  they  may  go;  and  people  who  go  to  new  places  because 
they  amount  to  nothing  at  home,  will  be  likely  to  return  again  for  the 


A   GREAT   "wonderland   OF   MOUNTAI^'   SCENERY." 

same  reason.  But  I  have  seen  such  a  miracle  as  a  shiftless  man 
changed  into  an  industrious  one  under  the  in.spiring  activities  of 
Vancouver,  Seattle,  and  Tacoma.  Everybody  is  full  of  life  and 
energy  in  those  new  cities,  and  he  would  be  worthless  indeed  who 
did  not  feel  their  industrial  force.  Such  a  man  must  be  cither 
very  unfortunate  or  a  born  failure. 

"Think  of  that  immense    Northwestern  Empire,"  continued  Mr. 
Lctte.     "  Passing  by  the  vast  plains  of  the  Northwestern   Territories 


il 


I'i  ; 


I  I:" 


ii^iiii 


i  i 


M 


ill 


I 


•i  i  \  ''A 


II 

iililll 


-H! 


■■M 


iilii 


* 


f'>l' 


;•      1    !,•< 


22 


ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS  IN  THE   GREAT  NORTHWEST. 


and  the  prairie  steppes,  the  great  hard-wheat-growing  empires  of  the 
Red  River  of  the  North,  the  Lake  of  the  Woods,  and  the  Assiniboine 
and  Peace  rivers,  let  us  glance  at 

BRITISH   COLUMBIA, 

only  since  1871  a  part  of  the  Dominion  of  Canada,  but  now  teeming 
with  a  delighted  population,  and  building  the  great  port  cities  of 
the  Puget  Sound  and  the  British  Possessions.  Here  rises  Mount 
Brown,  sixteen  thousand  feet  high.  Here  is  the  Canadian  National 
Park,  with  its  foaming  cascades.  Here  are  Alpine-like  pastures  and 
grand  plateaus,  picturesque  and  wonderful  clear-water  lakes  and 
streams  and  glacial  rivers.  Here  are  natural  sanitariums,  and  airs  of 
life  and  healing.  Here  is  a  climate  as  lovely  as  Florida  during  much 
of  the  year,  and  sunset  skies  like  those  which  cover  the  Ionian  Isles. 
Here  are  stupendous  forests  and  rich  fisheries.  Here  are  mines 
everywhere  ;  the  mountains  are  treasure-houses  of  gold,  silver,  and 
copper,  and  abound  in  iron  and  coal.  Here  flows  the  gigantic  Fraser 
River,  and  here  sparkles  the  wood-shadowed  Gulf  of  Georgia.  Here 
is  the  old  city  of  Victoria,  in  a  climate  like  the  south  of  England, 
and  the  new  city  of  New  Westminster  on  the  hills  overlooking  the 
calmly  flowing  Fraser,  and  itself  overlooked  by  the  white  brow  of 
Mount  Baker.  And  here  is  the  poit  of  Vancouver,  which  is  con- 
nected with  all  the  ports  of  the  Pacific,  mountain-walled  and  forest- 
sh-jltered,  most  beautiful  in  situation,  and  gathering  to  itself  peoples 
from  all  lands,  and  hospitable  even  to  the  people  of  China  and 
Japan. 

"And  what  a  romantic  and  almost  unread  history  it  all  has! 
Think  of  the  names  of  the  early  explorers  whose  adventurous  ex- 
ploits would  fill  a  story-book,  —  Juan  de  Fuca,  Cook,  Vancouver, 
Puget,  Baker,  Rainier,  Mackenzie,  and  the  old  settlers  of  Victoria  I 
This  unknown  land  is  already  full  of  legends  and  traditions  worthy 


of 


a  poet's  pen. 


s 

api^i 

r!  1 

■' f 

1  \im 

'ill 

''  il 

1 

1             'i 
1        II   'i 

•i; 


r    -Mi 

1;    •        ;      ^    .!;i,'| 

1 

il            ' 

i 

THAT    IMMKNSR    NOKTHWESTKKN    KMPIRE. 


u,        liLija 

•i 


» 


I 


mn\ 


THE  AMERICAN  SWITZERLAND. 


25 


"sunset  skies  like  those  which  cover  the 
ionian  isles." 


"  Who  was  Juan  de  Fuca?  " 
asked  one  of  the  tourists. 

''  I  cannot  tell  you  now, 
it  would  be  too  long  a  story. 
I  will  tell  you  at  another 
time  if  you  wish  to  hear.  I 
love  the  old  romances  of  the 
Puget  Sound,  and  would  be 
glad  to  tell  them  to  you  in 
the  future,  if  you  have  ears  to  listen.  I  look  upon  British  Columbia 
as  one  of  the  best  places  for  a  poor  young  man  in  all  the  British 
Empire ;  as  the  place  that  offers  him  the  largest  opportunity  and 
the  most  of  happiness  and  reasonable  expectation." 

It  wras  evident  that  Mr.  Lette  had  made  the  last  thought  the 
inspiration  of  his  life,  and  that  he  would  repeat  it  over  and  over 
wherever  he  should  go.  A  good  hobby  is  a  good  thing,  and  life 
is  usually  the  better  for  one. 


i  ! 


\\M% 


\t 


i  * 


"v^  ^ 


*' 


H  1 


„5il!H|lij. -...-_-,.!|ki,.iuii..j.i,i.  Ill 


^mn 


h  i 


-•ri  1  iiihr<i<i4i(i»irr;ii>iii-.jrt.i'.'ini--n-v;!i. 


iuiaiaiBtiiiHHiiia 


26 


ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS  IN  THE  GREAT  NORTHWEST. 


The  waiter  stood  with  wide  eyes,  and  the  curves  of  his  face 
were  all  interrogation  points,  while  Mr.  Lette  recounted  the  grandeur 
and  the  glories  of  the  scenery  of  British  Columbia.  When  the 
explorer  came  to  a  conclusion,  the  man  fanned  himself  with  his 
napkin,  and  exclaimed, — 

"Hi  declare!  Hi  will  go  there;  hit  must  be  a  suitable  place 
for  a  British  subject  to  live  hin.  How  far  is  hit  from  Quebec, 
may  I  hask?" 

"  More  than  three  thousand  miles." 

"All  rail?" 

"Yes,  all  rail."  Mr.  Lette  tilted  back  in  his  chair.  The  new 
empire  was  filling  his  vision  again.  "  'T  is  the  most  wonderful  road 
ever  made  by  human  hands,"  said  he,  "  that 

CANADIAN   PACIFIC   RAILROAD, 

stretching  from  the  Atlantic  to  the  Pacific,  and  bridging  the  two 
oceans  with  an  iron  highway. 

"  I  well  recall  the  day  that  the  great  road  was  completed.  It  was 
the  7th  of  November,  1885,  in  the  Wild  Eagle  Pass  of  the  Gold  Range 
of  mountains.  For  five  years  the  road  had  been  virtually  in  progress, 
moving  from  Winnipeg  toward  the  mountains  and  from  Winnipeg 
toward  the  sea,  and  from  the  Pacific  toward  the  mountain  climbers 
from  the  steppes  and  plains.  It  had  been  undertaken  before  this 
period  by  the  government ;  but  after  many  delays  it  was  decided  in 
1880  to  surrender  the  stupendous  work  to  a  private  company.  Then 
it  was  that  the  enterprise  was  undertaken  in  earnest.  The  govern- 
ment put  at  the  disposal  of  the  company  millions  of  money  and 
millions  of  acres  of  land  ;  an  army  of  engineers  and  laborers  mus- 
tered, armed  with  pickaxes,  powder,  and  dynamite ;  Manitoba  was 
soon  crossed  —  " 

"  How  do  you  pronounce  that  word } "  was  the  waiter's  unex- 
pected   interruption. 


It  is 


wait( 


cross 


THE  AMERICAN  SWITZERLAND. 


27 


f 

W 

k 

fl  > 

5 

Ht 

'■■ 

'  I^^H 

■' 

Hi 

"PICTURESQUK   CLEAR-WATER    STREAMS. 


"Manitoba',"  said  Mr.  Lette,  "although  most  people  say  Manito'ba. 
It  is  vc\2i\vXo\x-ba ;  that  is,  the  manitou,  or  god,  speaks'.' 

"  I  see,"  said  the  intelligent  waiter;  "the  sheep  said  baa^ 

"Yes,  yes,"  said  Mr.  Lette,  "so  I  see." 

"  I  have  a  brother  who  lives  in  Minnesota',"  said  the  luminous 
waiter. 

"  No,  no,"  answered  several  of  the  tourists. 

"  I  was  saying,"  continued  Mr.  Lette,  "  that  Manitoba'  was  soon 
crossed,  and   Assiniboia   as    rapidly.       Then  began  the  battle  of  the 


»       JlBu 


i 

?  'hi 

1 


m 


::^7i5»'7^^^!''i*'? '  "*MW^^f  W*^  ■ 


■W^ 


k 


'^v^'^^ 


iji 


It     }« 


■M»ll|-irtWiil'  thir  i|T  I 


.,*-->.  jim^^pm 


W^ 


28 


ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS  IN  THE  GREAT  NORTHWEST. 


hills.  Look  on  the  map,  and  you  may  see  the  march  of  the  army 
of  engineers  and  laborers,  up  to  Banff,  —  so  called  from  the  Scot- 
tish estates,  —  four  thousand  feet,  then  on,  up,  higher  and  higher, 
under  peaks  that  pierced  the  heavens,  over  streams  that  for  ages  had 
been  breaking  the  rocks  in  the  canons  below,  up  to  the  ledge  pastures 
of  the  mountain  goat  and  the  home  of  the  eagle.  At  the  end  of  the 
first  year  the  engineers  and  navvies  had  advanced  one  hundred  and 

sixt}'  miles  from  Winnipeg.      During  the  second  year 

four  hundred  and  fifty  miles  had  been         /      -'^^\   accomplished ; 
the  end  of  the  third  yea  •  found 
them  amid  the  blue  skies 


V-- 


\ . 


''¥ j^^iS^^mMM. 


„^jim: 


J 


#" 


i"(/ 


of  the  Rockies, 

and  the  fourth  year 

in  the  snow-castled  regions  "peaks  that  pierced  th:;  heavkns." 

of  the  Selkirks,    more    than    a 

thousand   1^   ies   from  the  mid-ocean  city,  the  Chicago  of  the  British 

Empire.         he    two   armies   met   in    the    Gold    Mountains.     Clank ! 

The   last   spike    was   driven.      The    two   oceans   were    bridged ;    the 

Rocky    Mountains  were  conquered  and  bound,  never  to  be  released. 

England  might  now  travel  toward   the   Orient,  to  China  and  Japan, 

in  the  continuous    lights   of    her   own   ships  and    homes,  and   in  the 

shadow  of  Saint  George's  Cross. 

"  The  construction  of  the  road  had  not  only  conquered  the  Rockies 
and  linked  the  two  oceans,  it  had  done  more  ;  it  had  bound  the  greater 


THE  AMERICAN  SWITZERLAND. 


29 


half  of  North  America  to  England  in  bonds  stronger  than  iron.  That 
clang  on  the  last  spike  had  riveted  the  two  continents  of  the  posses- 
sions of  the  English  crown,  and  made  a  greater  England  possible  on 
this  side  of  the  Atlantic.  War  has  its  heroes,  and  so  has  peace.  And 
among  the  heroes  of  the  arts  of  peace,  none  are  more  deserving  of 
honor  than  the  statesmen,  capitalists,  engineers,  navvies,  and  laborers 
of  the  Canadian   Pacific  Railroad." 

"  Hat !  your  honor,"  said  the  enlightened  waiter,  touching  the 
bare  place  on  his  forehead  where  a  hat-brim,  had  one  been  there, 
might  have  added  grace  to  the  obeisance. 

The  next  morning  the  party  of  tourists  left  for  Liverpool. 


THE   FOUR  GREAT  EMPIRES. 

Russia         7,012,874  square  miles 

Dominioi  of  Canada 3,127,041      "         " 

United  States 2,999,848      "         " 

Brazil 2,408,104       '         " 


mitm 


J  ^•"mrv.'fWVIUMtm  .*.J'H(!j?''Ji»f'WJ-*^i- 


TW^FTTT^ 


■TOS 


^i^^wp 


^^"■Pi 


ii«r<iirrwHri  „■  ■rji..:^^ 


CHAPTER   II. 


PLANNING   A   TRIP   TO   THE   NORTHWEST, 


« •fPI 


N  our  last  volume  we  left  Aunt  Helen  Mar  Hampden 
and  her  nephew  Charles  Hampden  and  niece  Mary 
Hampden  at  the  Golden  Cro=s  Hotel,  London  The 
Hampdens,  from  Bristol,  Rhode  Island,  had  made  an 
educational  tour  to  Great  Hampden,  England,  hoping 
thereby  to  be  able  to  find  proof  that  the  great  John  Hampden,  the 
father  of  English  liberty,  had  once  visited  America,  and  the  shores 
where  they  li^  ed,  in  order  to  provide  a  place  of  refuge  for  the  Eng- 
lish patriots  in  case  the  cause  of  the  people  against  royal  tyranny 
should  fail.  In  this  secret  service,  in  1623,  it  is  supposed  that  he 
visited  the  great  Sachem  Massasoit,  who  then  lived  at  Pokanoket, 
now  Warren  and  Bristol,  and  finding  him  sick,  helped  to  nurse  him 
bark  to  health.  The  supposed  place  of  the  meeting  of  these  two 
great  characters  of  history  is  called  Massasoit  Spring,  near  one  of 
the  wharves  in  Warren.  At  the  time  when  we  took  leave  of  the 
Hampden  family  in  our  last  volume.  Aunt  Helen  Mar  had  not  been 
able  to  secure  the  positive  evidence  of  Hampden's  visit  to  America. 
She  still  had  faith,  however,  that  such  proof  existed,  and  that  one  day 
it  would  be  made  clear  to  her. 

While  the  Hampdens  were  in  England  they  stopped  much  at 
the  old  Golden  Cross  Hotel  Here  they  met  Mr.  Lette,  whom  we 
have   mtroduced.      They  had   chanced   to   overhear   the   description 


..  .  I 


.,i 


'  .:h 


in 


'iiii 


ON    THE    THAMRS,    BF.l.OW    LONDON. 


if 

i 

1 
1 

J  h 

i 
1 

! 

li 

iM!;: 


ii 


r:-.  ' 


of  th( 

turnir 

them. 

"I 

"  than 

"/ 

Ai 

Th 

or  ear] 

surpris 

in   Enj 

tional 

spring, 

summe 

The 

old  ex|: 

went  tc 

gallerie; 

to    Sydi 

would    ( 

outinof  , 

times  tl 

mouth   ( 

for  sea. 

would  sj 

"I  w 

One 

Mr.  Lett 

Vancouv 

Not] 

"Let 

on  the  wi 


PLANNING  A    TRIP    TO    THE  NORTHWEST. 


33 


of  the  American  Switzerland  which  Mr.  Lette  had  given  to  tlie  re- 
turning party  of  travellers  from  the  States.  It  had  deeply  interested 
them.  * 

"  I  would  rather  visit  British  Columbia,"  said  Charles  Hampden, 
"than  go  to  Switzerland." 

"  And  I,"  said  Mary  Hjmpden. 

Aunt  Helen  Mar  Hampden  was  not  so  decided  at  this  time. 

The  Hampdens  had  intended  to  return  to  America  in  the  autumn 
or  early  in  the  winter.  But  they  had  learned  the  strange  fact  which 
surprises  most  Americans,  —  that  they  could  live  much  more  cheaply 
in  English  towns  than  at  home.  So  as  the  journey  was  an  educa- 
tional one,  they  resolved  to  remain  in  London,  or  near  London,  until 
spring,  and  then  perhaps  visit  Switzerland,  and  return  early  in  the 
summer  to  the  States. 

They  often  met  Mr.  Lette,  and  young  Charles  Hampden  and  the 
old  explorer  formed  a  very  warm  and  intimate  acquaintance.  They 
went  to  amusements  together,  —  to  the  Royal  Albert  Hall,  the  art 
galleries,  and  museums.  They  made  frequent  journeys  in  company 
to  Sydenham  Palace,  Hampden  Court,  and  other  places.  They 
would  often  take  the  boats  that  ply  the  Thames,  to  have  a  quiet 
outing  on  the  river,  enjoying  the  ever  changing  panorama.  Some- 
times they  would  extend  their  journeys  and  take  longer  sails  to  the 
mouth  of  the  Thames,  watching  with  'rtcrest  the  boats  preparing 
for  sea.  Almost  always  after  their  interviews  and  outings  Charles 
would  say  to  his  aunt,  — 

"  I  would  rather  visit  the  American  Switzerland." 

One  day  he  added  to  this  declaration  the  further  information  that 
Mr.  Lette  would  accompany  a  party  of  emigrants  in  the  spring  to 
Vancouver  and  Seattle. 

Not  long  after  this  he  unfolded  the  following  plan  :  — 

"  Let  us  return  to  Portland,  Maine,  with  Mr.  Lette  in  the  spring, 
on  the  winter  service  of  the  Allan  Line  of  steamers,  and  go  with  him 


!?    .• 


l^i 


m 


I'll 


1 


m 


III 


'  i  ;f 


\''m 


iili 


w 


!!J«»»SI'^^f>5ipp»Tl^»flf'l>«,»*,H.»ll  'I. 


|l     !• 


life 


ipii 


34 


ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS  IN  THE  GREAT  NORTHWEST. 


to  British  Columbia  and  Washington  and  Oregon,  instead  of  making 
the  Swiss  trip." 

This  plan  did  not  meet  Aunt  Mar's  approval,  but  it  gained  a 
point. 

"  We  will  not  return  to  Portland  in  the  spring,"  she  said,  "  but 
wc  will  go  to  Switzerland,  and  meet  Mr.  Lette  at  Montreal  in  the 
summer,  when  he  is  to  make  a  second  trip  with  a  second  party  of 
emigrants  to  the  cities  of  the  Puget  Sound.  And  you  may  go  with 
him,  if  he  is  willing." 

This  seemed  a  most  delightful  plan  to  our  young  traveller.  It 
would  bring  the  two  Switzerlands  in  contrast.  In  the  mean  time 
Charles  would  learn  as  much  as  possible  in  r-gard  to  both  these  lands 
of  glaciers,  waterfalls,  and  beautiful  valleys. 

One  evening,  at  the  Golden  Cross,  Charles  asked  Mr.  Lette  in 
regard  to  the  birds  and  animals  of  the  Canadian  plains,  mountains, 
and  the  Puget  Sound.  He  was  interested  in  the  natural  history  of 
new  places,  and  listened  eagerly  to  Mr.  Lette 's  reply. 


CURIOUS  ANIMALS   OF  THE  NORTHWEiiT. 

"Canada  is  the  home  of  the  finest  fur-bearing  nnimals.  One  still 
meets  foxes  along  the  line  of  the  railroad,  and  ii  is  a  favorite  diversion 
of  the  passengers  to  watch  them  from  the  windows  of  the  train.  On 
the  plains  they  live  in  villages,  hunt  gophers  and  mice,  and  are  very 
cunning  in  avoiding  snares  and  traps.  The  coyote  is  often  seen  by 
the  settler,  though  the  herds  of  buffalo  that  it  once  followed  are  gone. 
The  great  gray  wolf  may  still  be  seen  hiding  from  the  train  or  horse- 
man. Horses  are  greatly  afraid  of  this  merciless  animal,  which  will 
hamstring  a  stray  horse  on  the  plains. 

"  Archbishop  Tache  relates  some  anecdotes  of  the  prairie  wolf  which 
illustrates  its  cunning  instincts,  and  which  I  will  give  you  from  his 
narrative. 


PKliPAKlNG    FOR    SEA. 


1  :  I 
!     t! 


'4 

ri 

M     } 


m 


\m 


m 


■\]i 


i 

p 

JPHWH^P^PPPW 


PLANNING  A    TRIP   TO   THE  NORTHWEST. 


%% 


" '  A  fisherman  was  in  the  habit  of  intrusting  fish  to  one  of  his  dogs  for 
his  master.  To  prevent  the  dog  being  attacl^ed  by  wolves,  the  man  attached 
bells  to  the  animal.  The  dog  performed  his  duty  daily  for  several  consecutive 
winters ;  but  on  one  occasion,  the  bells  being  forgotten,  the  poor  animal  was 
eaten  up,  and  the  splendid  fish  that  the  delicate  attentions  of  a  poor  servant 
intended  for  the  chief  of  a  post,  became,  with  their  carrier,  a  feast  for  wolves. 

"  '  While  I  was  staying  at  Isle  a  hi  Crosse,  three  large  wolves,  one  black 
and  two  gray,  made  havoc  among  our  train  dogs,  eating  several  of  them. 
Their  cunning  in  avoiding  traps  enabling  them  to  escape  the  death  planned 
for  them,  a  price  was  set  upon  their  heads. 

" '  An  old  Canadian,  by  the  name  of  Morin,  made  a  great  effort  to  gain 
the  reward,  and  the  skins.  A  skilled  trapper,  he  made  use  of  all  his  experi- 
ence in  setting  his  best  spring  traps,  which,  as  usual,  he  fastened  by  a  chain 
to  a  very  large  piece  of  wood.  All  the  dogs  were  carefully  locked  up,  and 
every  other  precaution  adopted  to  make  the  three  troublesome  visitors  hungry. 
Morin  visited  his  traps  daily,  and  everybody  was  in  the  habit  of  going  to 
meet  him  on  his  return,  to  learn  the  result  of  his  expedition.  The  subject 
was  the  theme  of  the  day. 

" '  There  came  a  furious  storm,  during  which  the  trapper  remained  at  home. 
Calm  weather  followed,  and  the  old  Canadian  went  to  visit  his  traps;  in  the 
distance  he  saw  snow  roveri"g  one  of  the  three  thieves  that  had  been  caught; 
a  second  trap  had  been  set  o^"  unsuccessfully,  and  the  third  had  disappeared ; 
disorder  reigned  in  the  pacK  of  evolves ;   the  others  never  appeared  again. 

" '  Morin,  after  long  and  vain  searching,  was  regretting  the  loss  of  his  trap, 
when,  a  month  having  elapsca,  the  people  of  Green  Lake,  about  ninety  miles 
from  Isle  ci  la  Crosse,  saw  a  wolf  walking  on  one  of  their  lakes,  apparently  with 
difficulty.  Several  dogs  were  sent  after  him;  he  was  caught  and  killed.  He 
was  no  other  than  one  of  the  rogues  from  Isle  k  la  Crosse,  for  the  trap  was  still 
attach  '.  o  his  leg.  The  chain  and  log  of  wood  were  detached  at  the  time  of 
his  companion's  death;  he  had  wandered  in  every  direction  through  the  forest 
for  a  whole  month,  dragging  this  heavy  and  cruel  encumbrance  in  the  midst  of 
the  most  intense  cold.  This  wolf  was  reduced  to  a  mere  walking  skeleton,  but 
the  occurrence  indicates  a  power  and  tenacity  of  life  in  the  animal,  difficult  to 


understand. 


WOLVERINES. 


*'  The  wolverine  is  noted  for  its  great  strength  and  its  skill  in  feats 
of  strategy.     Its  cunning  indicates  the  faculty  of  reason,  or  what  is 


rr 


»  i> 


■  i!  j' 


» i 


'  'I 

ill 


t=  '■  t   li 

1:      '              -; 

..Jj 

>^< '    ymm,m.mmmmm 

,(i( 


'/I 


-. ^^Xrt-U:.:,^  ^.^ 


■n^.rr-T 


TT^ 


.1,.!,'  ,.i,^?rWTrr.  w  .^    ..I,,.  .^  , 


"WW 


ll« 


38 


ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS  IN  THE  GREAT  NORTHWEST. 


like  it.  Archbishop  Tache  relates  some  anecdotes  to  the  point ;  the 
first,  of  a  wolverine  that  had  robbed  a  hunter's  hiding-place  of  a  gun 
and  some  food.     The  archbishop  says  :  — 

"  '  After  a  long  search  we  first  found  the  leathern  gun-case,  which  had  been 
taken  off  the  gun,  for  it  had  been  carefully  put  on  to  protect  and  conceal  the 
piece.  Then,  in  another  direction  and  farther  away,  v/e  found  the  gun  under 
the  trunk  of  a  tree ;  leaves  had  been  thrown  over  it,  and  scattered  for  some 
distance  around  as  if  to  conceal  the  tracks  of  the  thief.  We  should  certainly 
have  concluded  that  a  man  had  been  at  work,  had  not  the  deep  solitude  of 
the  forest  obliged  us  to  recognize  the  acts  of  a  wolveiine,  of  which  traces  were 
everywhere  visible  in  the  neighborhood. 

"  '  If  the  skilfulness  of  the  wolverine  sometimes  insures  him  success,  here  is 
an  incident  that  proves  his  mischief  frequently  brings  punishment.  An  In- 
dian  had  left  his  lodge  without  any  one  to  look  after  it.  A  wolverine  pres- 
ently entered  the  deserted  habitation,  brought  out,  one  by  one,  all  the  things 
he  found  inside,  and  hid  them  here  and  there,  and  even  far  away  from  the 
lodge.  There  remained  only  a  bag  of  gunpowder.  This  the  animal  seized 
between  his  teeth,  and  concealed  among  the  cinders  in  the  fireplace.  Some 
fuel  still  unextinguished  soon  burnt  the  bag,  and  caused  an  explosion,  of 
which  the  roguish  wolverine  was  the  first  victim;  for  it  stretched  him  dead 
on  the  spot,  scattering  the  brains  of  the  thief  right  and  left.* 


"  The  black  bear  of  Canada  is  harmless,  and  runs  from  man.  The 
grizzlies  are  of  course  a  source  of  terror  to  man  and  beast.  They 
have  been  known  to  carry  away  Indian  women,  like  the  tigers  of 
India.  An  Indian  sometimes  has  escaped  from  a  grizzly  after  cap- 
ture by  feigning  death. 

"  The  beautiful  j^rog-horned  antelope  has  almost  wholly  disap- 
peared from  the  buffalo  plains.  Moose  still  abound  in  the  region 
of  Peace  River,  and  the  caribou  in  the  north.  The  Big  Hon  or 
Rocky  Mountain  sheep  grazes  on  the  wooded  slopes  of  the  mountr.his. 
The  bones  of  the  bison  are  found  everywhere,  but  the  great  iiurds 
are  gone  forever." 


^  ! 


im 


J 


*  ( 


ANIMALS   OF   THE   NOUTHWKST. 


mi!^^7PifR!iip!B«!HW^WP» 


-^-rmmfr^*^-' 


Jiin^ij.^,1. ,. 


PLANNING  A    TRIP    TO    THE  NORTHWEST. 


41 


'  1 

1 

'  '1 

'« 

.,;              fr        W 

J* 

til 

BIRDS. 

"  The  birds  of  Canada  are  chiefly  the  inhabitants  of  the  woods, 
lakes,  and  thickets.  They  consist  of  thrushes  and  finches,  robins 
and  swallows,  white-winged  blackbirds  and  rose-breasted  grossbeaks. 
The  prairies  abound  with  meadow  larks  and  bobolinks.  The 
Canadian  jay  and  cow-bird  are  the  travellers,  and  the  woodpeckers 
the  stay-at-homes.  Owls  hoot  in  the  dark  recesses  of  the  forests, 
and  ospreys  and  eagles  wheel  over  the  forests  near  the  coasts.  The 
game-birds  are  the  grouse,  partridge,  and  prairie-hen.  Herons,  cranes, 
snipes,  and  plovers  are  common  near  the  coast  and  about  the 
lakes  and  ponds,  and  wild  geese  and  ducks  of  many  kinds  furnish 
abundant  game  in  the  same  marshy  places.  Grebes,  or  water-hens, 
build  their  nests  on  the  sedges  that  rise  and  fall  with  the  water. 
The  Avi-fauna  of  the  Northwest  Territories  numbers  some  two 
hundred  and  fifty  species." 

Among  the  many  places  of  interest  that  Mr.  Lette  and  young 
Charles  Hampden  attended  was  a  school  of  working-boys,  to  which 
free  instruction  was  given  evenings.  These  boys  were  for  the  most 
part  the  orphan  sons  of  English  sailors,  to  whom  a  home  had  been 
given  until  they  were  prepared  to  enter  the  trades.  The  scl^.ool 
was  called  the  Grace  Darling  Institute.  The  boys  of  the  Institute 
were  as  greatly  interested  as  Charles  Hampden  in  Mr.  Lette's  Cana- 
dian experiences.  In  fact,  so  interested  did  they  become,  that  sev- 
eral of  them  wished  to  go  to  America  and  take  homesteads,  on 
their  becoming  of  age,  in  Manitoba,  Assiniboia,  Alberta,  or  British 
Columbia. 

Mr.  Lette  had  delivered  before  the  Institute  a  course  of  lectures 
on  these  provinces,  and  the  opportunities  for  settlement  which  the^ 
offered.  No  topics  could  excite  a  more  eager  ear  than  these 
new  lands. 


It 


;:li 


il 


m 


MP 


I'! 


if 

'■"] 

'     1    '. 

'ii 

.1!    1 

i    1 

,          i    i 

Tj 

;  ^  i}] 

,  •"  '- 

ilJJi 

i 

^Ji^ 


It 


iiw     mvmjiiji 


l>IB«9P| 


ip 


42 


ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS  IN  THE  GREAT  NORTHWEST. 


One  of  these  lectures  related  to  the  stories  and  legends  of  the 
new  cities  on  the  Puget  Sound.  It  was  a  record  of  facts  gathered  dur- 
ing his  own  travels  from  Vancouver,  B.  C,  to  Olympia,  Washington, 
and  up  the  Oregon  or  Columbia  River.  It  contained  some  very 
curious  incidents,  and  we  give  it  here,  as  a  preparation  for  the  in- 
teresting journey  which  young  Hampden  had  decided  to  make, 
in  hope  that  it  may  awaken  a  desire  in  our  readers  mind  to 
follow  him. 


STRANGE  LEGENDS  OF  PUGET  SOUND. 

New  America  is  rising  on  the  shores  of  the  vast  and  romantic  fiord  called 
by  the  Indians  the  VVhulge,  but  known  to  modern  geographers  as  Tugct 
Sound.  Already  the  prophets  of  Seattle  claim  that  their  city  will  one  day 
be  the  larger  New  York.  "  We  shall  be,"  they  say,  "  the  port  of  the  Pacific 
and  of  Asia.  We  shall  distribute  our  commodities  tiirough  the  vast  empire 
west  '"*'  the  Mississippi  as  New  York  docs  through  the  east.  We  are  to  be 
the  lumber-yard  of  the  world.  Pennsylvanias  of  coal  and  unknown  mountain 
treasure-houses  of  all  kinds  of  ores  lie  behind  us,  and  the  quiet  waterways 
to  all  lands  before  us,  and  one  of  the  three  great  cities  of  modern  times  must 
here  lift  its  domes  of  industry  over  the  sunset  sea." 

Tacoma,  the  beautiful,  makes  the  same  claim,  and  argues  that  she  not 
only  has  the  port  on  which  are  to  ride  the  ships  of  the  world,  but  the  Northern 
Pacific  Railroad  as  the  direct  route  to  the  shop  towns  and  cities  of  the  East. 
The  most  beautifiilly  situated  of  all  American  cities,  the  Naples  of  the  North, 
on  the  new  Mediterranean,  with  Mount  Tacoma  spread  out  like  a  celestial 
tent  above  her,  the  most  splendid  and  poetic  peak  in  the  American  atmos- 
phere, Tacoma  has  literary  and  artistic  as  well  as  commercial  aspirations. 
These  ambitions  are  well  founded,  if  we  may  trust  the  modern  prophets. 
Says  the  author  of  the  "Vestiges  of  the  Natural  History  of  Creation,"  Robert 
Ch  imbers,  "  When  the  populations  of  America  shall  reach  the  Pacific,  the 
literary  period  of  that  coimtry  will  begin." 

Theodore  Winthrop,  drifting  down  the  Puget  Sound  in  a  canoe,  prophesied 
that  religion  would  find  its  new  spiritual  development  and  evolution  among 
the  nations  that  were  to  gather  there.  The  march  of  progress  here  holds  her 
steetis  in  the  bla/.e  of  the  sunset,  with  the  crystal  tent  of  Tacoma  like  a  de- 
serted abode  of  the  gods  of  the  golden  age  in  the  sky.     The  axe  and  hammer 


'i 


''M 


:.y  nameim 


HlllUS    OK    TIIK    NOinilWKST. 


'.<■.     .:J;i 


,IH 


■1;  ;i|| 


■(ij 

it* 


i!  ;  ■ 


ih  (i 


^¥ 


■^'   : 


r'ss^ 


PLANNING  A    TRIP    TO   THE  NORTHWEST. 


45 


have  begun  their  work  everywhere  in  all  these  lands  of  the  woods.  Troy  was, 
and  Troys  are  to  be.  The  Puget  Sound  laborer,  with  faith  in  the  future,  smites 
the  giant  trees.  But  let  the  prophets  pass  and  the  poets  come,  here  surely  is 
to  be  a  great  political  empire,  and  the  literary  sense  is  awakening  to  the  fact, 
and  beginning  to  inquire  about  the  old  romances  and  traditions  of  these  new- 
created  scenes. 

The  Puget  Sound  country  is  rich  in  legendary  lore,  and  here  new  School- 
crafts  and  Longfellows,  new  poets  and  composers  and  painters  and  artists,  may 
find  a  field  worthy  of  a  higher  inspiration.  The  religion  of  the  Puget  Sound 
Indians  is  spiritualism :  every  tree  has  its  soul,  and  all  the  mountains  are  the 
abodes  of  invisible  gods ;  personification,  as  in  ancient  Greece,  is  everywhere, 
and  all  the  truths  of  life  are  taught  in  parable. 

The  student  from  the  North  unrolls  his  map,  and  asks,  "  Who  was  Juan 
de  Fuca?"  He  .finds  that  the  strait  that  opens  this  new  world  was  named 
after  an  Italian  romancer  and  pretended  discoverer.  And  he  next  asks,  "  Who 
was  Puget,  and  why  was  that  name  given  to  the  Indian  Whulge?"  Even 
the  cyclopaedias  are  silent  here,  as  are  Wilkes,  Swan,  and  Victor;  but  the 
old  pioneer  will  tell  you  that  Puget  was  the  chivalrous  lieutenant  of  Vancouver, 
and  that  he  measured  the  one  hundred  and  twenty  miles  of  the  winding  sea, 
and  fathomed  its  sea-green  waters,  and  saw  the  celestial  tent  of  Mount  Tacoma 
spread  in  the  sky,  and  dreamed  in  the  bright  days  of  1792  that  he  would  soon 
enter  a  marvellous  river  that  would  run  from  the  Pacific  to  the  Atlantic. 
So  he  drifted  on  in  the  wonderland  anywhither;  but  although  the  sky  was 
domed  with  crystal,  the  open  river  to  the  Atlantic  did  not  appear.  The 
way  to  the  Atlantic  was  to  come ;  but  it  was  to  be  iron  and  steam.  Pugct's 
old  camping-ground  is  still  shown  to  the  tourist  on  the  Whulge.  His  body 
should  be  brought  there,  and  his  monument  bear  the  name  of  the  sea.  But 
his  name  is  already  written  eternally  on  the  waters,  like  Vancouver's  on  the 
island,  where  also  infant  cities  are  at  play  with  the  axe  and  hammer.  Puget's 
romantic  dreams,  like  that  of  the  old  adelantado  of  Florida  and  Bimini,  were 
allegorical;   the  types  of  stupendous  realities,  like  a  child's  visions  of  life. 


U  I 


V'M  ■ 


\  i 


TACOMA'S   FIRE   BATTLE. 

Theodore  Winthrop,  in  his  "  Canoe  and  Saddle,"  fixed  the  Siwash  name 
of  Tacoma  on  Mount  Rainier  or  Rcgnicr.  The  Seattle  people  still  call  the 
mountain  Rainier;  and  you  may  know  a  Seattle  man  by  the  emphatic  use 
that  he   makes   of  this  word.     "  Rainier "  is   never  allowed  to  be  so  much  as 


"T^-ef-'-i^' 


"Wii.,l.Hi|,'"-'J'i-^«J-" 


11.  -■*■ 


46 


ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS  IN  THE  GREAT  NORTHWEST 


Uttered  in  Tacoma.  The  legend  of  Tacoma  evolved  through  the  lively  and 
picturesque  imagination  of  Theodore  Winthrop  may  be  found  in  "  Canoe 
and  Saddle,"  a  Rip  Vai)  Winkle  medley  of  little  classic   importance,  and  we  ^ 

will  not  repeat  it  here.  (The  Siwashes  have  a  nobl6i;x  legend  of  the  mountain,  l(^^'^  .f' 
growing   out   of  the   probable   view   that  it  was   once   a  volcano.,    Once,  in    \^ 

times  dim  and  distant,  the 
tamanouses,  or  guardian 
spirits,  of  the  mountain  be- 
came enraged  with  the  ta- 
manouses of  Mount  Hoo'd, 
who  were  acting  unruly,  and  < 
tossing,  as  we  may  imagine, 
stones  and  smoke  and  fire 
into  the  air.  jjjTo  teach  Mount 
Hood  a  Iqsson  and  make  him 
more  quiet  in  his  manners 
among  the  monarchs  of  the 
air,  Tacoma  began  to  stone 
the  rival  peak.  Some  of  the 
stones  thrown  by  Tacoma 
fell  short,  and  a  terrible  ac- 
cident happened,  the  bad 
effects  of  which  remain  to 
this  day.  Some  of  the  rocks 
thrown  by  Tacoma  fell  into 
the  Columbia  River  and 
turned  it  aside,  and  caused 
the  Cascades  and  Dalles. 
You  may  see  them  there  to- 
day. That  is  why  the  steam- 
boat from  "Portland,  Oregon,  cannot  go  all  the  way  up  the  New  Rhine. 

Tacoma  has  learned  the  arts  of  peace  since  then,  and  buried  under 
mighty  glaciers  her  spiteful  fires.  Mount  Hood  smokes  a  little  at  times, 
but  he  too  ij  becoming  quiet.  Men  will  soon  blow  the  rocks  out  of  the 
Columbia,  and  illumine  Mount  Tacoma  and  Mount  Hood  with  red  fires  on 
Fourth-of-July  nights,  and  then  all  the  land  of  the  new  empire  will  be  peace. 
This  legend  has  grand  outlines.  Like  many  of  the  Siwash  tales,  it  is  stu- 
pendous, and  the  proofs  of  it  are  wonderfully  visible. 


SEATTLE,   THE   INDIAN   CHIEF. 


PLANxVING  A    TRIP   TO   THE  NORTHWEST. 


47 


STORY  OF  ANGELINE  SEATTLE. 

Poor  old  Angeline  Seattle,  —  the  Princess  Angeline  !  Her  flat,  tan-colored 
face,  fiery  black  eyes,  and  black  hair  are  a  familiar  picture  in  the  streets  of 
the  new  city,  where  she  sits  down  daily  on  some  log  or  shoe-box  to  marvel  at 
all  that  is  going  on.  Now  and  then  she  hies  away  to  beg  "  one  bit "  or  "  two 
bits  "  of  Henry  Yesler  or  some  other  old  pioneer.  She  is  a  very  happy  mortal 
if  you  please  her,  and  very  ugly  if  you  tease  her.  She  is  the  daughter  of 
Seattle,  the  chief  who  gave  the  name  to  the  lively  and  ambitious  city  whose 
prophets  claim  the  earth.  Her  legend  is:  Once  upon  a  time  the  town  of  Seattle 
was  surrounded  by  a  union  of  the  war  tribes  bent  on  its  destruction.  Warriors 
were  hiding  in  every  bush.  Angeline,  the  princess,  the  daughter  of  the  chief, 
discovered  the  plot  and  the  plans  to  murder  the  town,  and  she  jtole  away  from 
her  lodge  under  "  the  moon  and  stars,"  and  came  to  the  imperilled  place,  and 
gave  the  old  settlers  warning.  Was  her  warning  true  ?  Many  laughed  at  it. 
The  war-ship  "  Decatur  "  lay  in  the  harbor.  The  captain  determined  to  shell 
the  woods.  The  Indians  understood  the  "  one  shot"  of  the  cannon-ball,  but  not 
the  "two  shot"  of  the  shell.  The  sight  of  a  ball  that  \vo\x\i^  shoot  ac^ain  was 
to  them  a  miracle.  The  "two-shot"  balls  caused  such  an  astonishment  in  the 
woods  that  a  hideous  yell  arose,  and  the  Princess  Angeline's  warning  was 
proven  to  be  an  episode  of  heroism. 

It  seems  a  pity  to  doubt  so  desirable  a  story,  especially  as  old  Angeline 
is  a  very  benevolent  soul,  and  gives  away  to  others  nearl)'  everything  she  has  or 
begs.  But  Mr.  Yesler,  the  old  pioneer  and  mayor,  has  receni'-  , 'ritten  an 
article,  in  which  he  claims  that  it  was  old  Curley,  a  friendly  Indian,  who  gave 
the  warning  and  caused  the  shelling  of  the  woods.  We  visited  Mr  Yesler, 
and  he  denied  the  heroic  claims  of  the  Princess  Angeline.  Veto.  We  must 
know  the  truth,  so  went  to  the  palace  of  the  princess  herself. 

The  palace  of  this  daughter  of  the  hero-chieftain  of  the  new  New  York 
consisted  of  a  hovel  or  tent  of  boards  on  the  side  of  a  hill,  among  other  hovels 
and  pans  and  kettles,  and  stumps  innumerable.  We  knocked  at  the  door.  A 
dog  came  to  meet  us.  One  dislikes  to  meet  a  dog  at  the  door  in  an  Indian 
town.  We  went  away  cautiously,  and  looked  over  the  bay,  and  listened  to  a 
thousand  hammers,  which  one  may  hear  anywhere.  Then  we  came  back  again 
over  the  charred  stumps.  The  palace  door  was  open,  and  on  the  step  sat 
the  dumpy  form  of  the  daughter  of  the  great  Seattle. 

"  Are  you  Angeline,  the  daughter  of  the  chief?  " 


II 


I        ! 


iill.llMWi  »iiwp?pipiw 


^■■^P" 


"^^•Pl" 


48 


ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS  IN  THE  GREAT  NORTHWEST. 


A  nod,  —  a  bow  nod.     Triumph  ! 

I  gave  her  one  bit.     Her  face  beamed. 

"  Nika  attic  copa  mika." 

"  Did  you  save  Seattle  during  the  war?  " 

A  low  bow.  There,  Henry  Yesler,  that  settles  it.  She  herself  said,  and  it 
is  greatly  to  her  credit.     We  gave  her  another  bit. 

"  Mitlitcr 

"  Yes,  I  will  sit  down ;  "  and  I  did,  and  she  "  shooed  "  away  the  suspicious- 
looking  dog,  and  there  on  the  palace  step  I  had  a  talk  with  the  venerable  prin- 
cess, the  once  lovely  heroine  of  Seattle.  Paint  her  picture,  somebody;  she 
will  not  be  here  long  to  watch  the  progress  of  the  city  from  the  log  or 
shoe-box. 

The  "great  Seattle," — who  was  he?  The  lord  of  all  the  Indians,  one 
would  suppose.  Veto  again.  He  came  with  Dr.  Maynard,  the  pioneer,  to 
Seattle,  and  was  true  to  the  interests  of  the  whites ;  and  so  Governor  Stevens, 
the  great  territorial  governor,  made  him  a  titular  chief,  and  the  new  town 
received  his  name. 


THE   COPPER  CANOE. 

Long,  long  ago,  say  the  Siwashes,  in  the  splendid  sunsets  of  the  Whulge, 
or  Puget  Sound,  there  came  a  canoe  of  copper,  sailing,  sailing.  The  painted 
forest  lords  and  feathered  maidens  saw  it  from  the  bluffs,  —  in  the  sunrise  at 
times,  or  in  the  moonsets,  but  ever  in  the  red  sunsets,  sailing,  sailing.  The 
gleam  of  copper  in  the  red  sunset  is  more  beautiful  than  gold;  and  ever  and 
anon  on  the  blue  wave  was  seen  the  burnished  gleam  of  the  copper  canoe. 

On  it  came,  and  the  solitary  voyager  in  the  copper  canoe  landed  at  last 
on  the  Whulge,  under  the  crystal  dome  of  Mount  Tacoma,  and  he  shadowed 
among  the  cool  firs  of  the  headlands  there  the  boat  that  flashed  out  the  rays 
of  sunset  light. 

He  called  together  the  tribes.  They  came  in  canoes  from  everywhere. 
He  began  to  teach  and  preach.  "  I  come  among  you  as  a  preacher  of 
righteousness,"  he  said,  or  thoughts  like  these.  "  All  that  men  can  possess 
in  this  world,  or  any  other,  is  righteousness.  If  a  man  have  that  he  is  rich 
though  he  be  poor,  and  his  soul  shall  rise,  rise,  rise,  and  live  forever. 

"  O  Siwashes,"  he  preached,  "  the  unseen  power  that  thinks  and  causes 
you  to  act  is  the  soul.  It  does  not  die  when  the  breath  vanishes.  It  goes 
away  with   the  unseen    life,  and    inhabits    the    life    unseen.     You    have   never 


PLAAAJAG   A    IKIl'    TO    THE   AORimVEST. 


49 


seen  the  soul  or  life;  but  death  is  only  the  beginning  uf  a  longer  life,  and  the 
soul  with  righteous  longings  shall  be  happy  forever. 

"  Hut  war  is  wrong,  -  the  spear,  the  arrow,  and  the  spilling  of  human 
blood.     Man  may  not  kill  his  brother.     The  soul  was  meant  for  peace." 

He  preached  these  or  like  doctrines,  a  beautiful  gospel,  like  the  .Sermon 
on  the  Mount. 

The  warlike  tribes  rejected  the  word.  They  nailed  to  a  tree  the  Saviour 
who  came  gleaming  over  the  violet  sea  in  the  co[jper  canoe,  and  he  died  there. 
They  took  down  his  body  ;  but,  wonder  of  wonders  !  it  rose  from  the  dead,  and 
appeared  to  all  the  tribes,  and  the  risen  Saviour  preached  the  same  doctrine 
of  righteousness  and  immortality  as  before.  Tlu  legend  may  have  been 
derived  from  the  preaching  of  some  fcn'est  priest  in  some  distant  place,  for 
the  Catholic  missionaries  were  on  the  coast  of  California  before  i/OO. 


iMii 


THE   STORY   OF  THE   STONE   SHOES. 


As  curious  and  wonderful  is  the  Siwash  tradition  of  the  flood,  which  may 
have  had  a  like  origin.  There  once  fell  upon  the  earth  a  long  and  terrible 
rain;  the  VVhulge  arose;  it  filled  the  mountain  walls,  and  all  the  tribes  per- 
ished except  one  man.  He  fled  before  the  rising  waters  up  the  sides  of  Mount 
Tacoma,  or  Rainier,  or  Ranier.  The  waters  rose  and  covered  the  mountain. 
They  swept  over  his  feet;  they  came  to  his  knees,  to  his  waist.  He  seemed 
about  to  be  swept  away,  when  his  feet  turned  to  stone.  Then  the  rain 
ceased.  The  clouds  broke  and  the  blue  sky  came  again,  and  the  waters 
began  to  sink. 

The  one  man  stood  there  on  the  top  of  Rainier.  He  could  not  lift  his 
feet;  they  were  rocks.  Birds  flew  again,  flowers  bloomed  again,  but  he  could 
not  go. 

Then  the  Spirit  of  All  Things  came  to  him.  "Sleep,"  said  he.  And  the 
one  man  with  stone  feet  slept. 

As  he  slept  there  the  Spirit  of  All  Things  took  fro  n  him  a  rib  and  made 
of  it  a  woman.  When  he  awoke,  there  stood  his  wife  r-ady-made  on  the  top 
of  Mount  Tacoma.  His  stone  shoes  dropped  off,  and  l1"^  hai)py  pair  came 
down  the  mountain  to  the  wooded  paradises  of  the  Whulge  on  the  sunset 
sea.  Here  sprung  the  human  race  at  the  foot  of  Mount  Tacoma,  or  Rainier, 
or  Ranier.  Hear  that,  O  ye  builders  of  the  new  cities!  The  golden  age  began 
with  you,  and  it  is  yours  to  bring  it  back  again.  The  ark,  however,  did  not 
rest  on  Mount  Tacoma ;  we  are  sorry  for  that.     Yet  this  legend  is  worth  any 

4 


\    % 


MA 


m 


50 


ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS  IN  THE   GREAT  NORTHWEST. 


two  traditions  of  the  ark;  it  is  the  story  of  Adam,  Eve,  and  Noah  all  in  one. 
Arc  the  stone  shoes  yet  on  the  top  of  the  mountain,  like  the  rocks  tossed  by 
the  tamanouses  in  the  cascades  of  the  Columbia?  It  is  a  hard  climb  up  the 
•mountain.  The  traveller  begins  to  bleed  from  ejes  and  ears  at  the  height  of 
eleven  thousand  feet;  and  it  is  very  hut  in  the  thin  air,  although  the  glaciers 
lie  beneath.  But  these  stone  shoes  would  be  worth  going  up  to  get.  Who 
shall  find  them,  the  "  Rainier"  man  or  the  "Tacoma"  man  of  the  rival  cities? 

•    THE   INDIAN   POTLATCII. 

The  devil  dance  has  been  forbidden  by  the  British  government  among  the 
Canadian  tribes.  It  was  once  the  great  feature  of  all  the  potlatches.  The  pot- 
latch  is  a  feast  of  gifts.  The  wealthiest  man  of  the  tribe  makes  a  potlatch,  or 
feast,  and  gives  away  to  his  own  tribe  or  a  neighboring  tribe  all  that  he  pos- 
sesses, and  whoever  gives  a  potlatch  becomes  an  Indian  grandee  or  lord.  The 
inspiring  plan  of  this  Northern  feast  is  benevolent,  though  somewhat  vain;  but 
the  ceremonies  used  to  be  of  the  most  horrid  character,  especially  the  tamanous 
dance,  or  spirit  dance,  and  the  devil  dance,  which  was  a  dance  of  blood. 

*'  I  once  witnessed  a  potlatch,"  said  a  pioneer  missionary,  "  and  I  hope  I  may 
never  see  such  a  scene  again.  I  had  landed  among  a  tribe  of  northern  Siwashes 
on  the  Whulge,  where  I  had  gathered  a  little  church  some  months  before,  and 
I  expected  to  hold  a  meeting,  on  the  night  I  came,  in  one  of  the  cabins.  The 
place  was  deserted ;  the  woods  were  all  silent.  Sunset  flashed  his  red  light 
along  the  sea,  —  such  a  sunset  as  one  only  sees  here  in  these  northern  latitudes, 
—  a  wannish  glare  of  smoky  crimson  lingering  long  into  the  night.  As  soon 
as  the  sun  went  down  I  began  to  hear  a  piping  sound  like  birds  in  all  the 
woods  around.  One  call  answered  another  everywhere.  I  had  never  heard 
a  sound  like  that.  I  tried  to  approach  one  of  ihese  sounds,  but  it  receded 
before  me. 

"  Suddenly  a  great  fire  blazed  up  and  lit  the  .sky.  I  approached  it;  it  was 
built  on  a  little  prairie.  Near  it  was  :i  huge  platform,  covered  with  canoes, 
blankets,  pressed  fish,  berry  cakes,  soap-olalely,  or  berry  soap,  wampum,  and 
beads.  Not  an  Indian  was  in  sight  save  one.  She  was  an  old  squaw  bound  to 
a  stake  or  tree. 

"  '  What  is  this?  '  I  asked  in  Chinook. 

'•  '  Cultus  tee-hee, 
Cultus  hee-hee, 
Dnli-blo ! ' 
she  wailed  in  Chinook. 


)ian 


old 
and  t 
jewel 


:d 


PLANNING  A    TRIP    TO    THE  NORTHWEST 


"  '  When,  —  tamala  '  (to-morrow)  ?         ' 

" '  Ding,  ding  —  ,-  ,  ,  - 

•  Lultus  tee-nee, 

Cultus  hee-hec, 

Dali-blo ! ' 

"  Then  I  knew  that  all  was  preparation  for  a  potlatch,  and  that  there  was  to 
be  a  devil  dance  —  ding,  ding  —  at  that  very  hour. 

"  It  was  a  night  of  the  full  moon ;  such  a  night  would  be  selected  for  such 
a  ceremony.  The  moon  rose  red  in  the  smoky  air,  and  the  sounds  like  the 
bird-calls  grew  louder  and  wilder.  There  was  a  yell;  it  was  answered  every- 
where; and  hundreds  of  Indians  in  paint  and  masks  came  running  out  of  the 
timber  upon  the  prairie.  Some  were  on  all  fours,  some  had  the  heads  of  beasts, 
fishes,  and  birds,  some  had  wings,  and  many  had  ^ai/s. 

"  Then  came  the  biters,  attended  by  raving  squaws.  The  biters  were  to 
tear  the  flesh  from  the  arms  of  any  who  were  not  found  at  the  dance  after 
a  certain  hour. 

"Now  the  drums  began  to  beat  and  the  shells  to  blow.  Indians  poured  out 
of  the  woods  in  paint,  blankets,  and  beads.  A  great  circle  was  formed;  the 
tamanous,  or  spirit  dance,  was  enacted.  Great  gifts  were  made  at  a  powwow,  or 
wahwah.  Then  the  great  dark  crowd  grew  frantic,  and  under  the  full  moon 
gleaming  on  high  came  the  devil  dance. 

"  The  first  victim  was  a  hxe  dog.  He  was  seized,  torn  in  pieces,  and  eaten 
by  the  dancers,  so  as  to  redden  their  faces  with  blood.  The  yells  were  now 
more  furious;  tl.o  dancers  leaped  into  the  air,  and  cycled  round  the  old  woman 
tied  to  the  tree.  I  will  not  describe  the  sickening  :.ight  that  followed ;  I  will 
only  say  that  the  old  hag  who  was  accused  of  c  sting  an  evil-eye  '  shared  the 
same  fate  as  the  dog. 

"  '  Why  do  you  worship  the  Devil?  '  I  asked  an  exhausted  brave  the  next  day. 

" '  Good  spirit  always  good ;  him  we  no  fear.  Please  the  Devil,  and  him  no 
harm  you.     All  well,  happy ;   good  tamanous,  bad  tamanous.     See  ?  ' 

"  It  was  plain,  —  the  old  philosophy  of  the  sinking  sailor,  who  prayed, '  Good 
Lord  !  good  Devil !  '  The  tradition  was  —  it  came  out  of  the  long  past  —  that 
the  Devil  must  be  appeased." 

They  are  vatiLsiiing, --the  tribes,  — and  it  is  time  to  gather  up  the 
old  legends.  The  Southern  Pacific  Railroad  is  to  run  up  to  Seattle, 
and  the  Canadian  Pacific  (/o7:;n  to  Seattle,  and  the  city  will  sit  like  a 
jewel  in  the  great  ring  of  iron  that  runs  round  the  coast  of  North 


I 


5  m 


ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS  IN  THE   GREAT  NORTHWEST. 

America.  Tacoma's  triumphal  road  strikes  at  once  the  States,  and 
here  the  past  is  forever  to  go  and  the  future  forever  to  come ;  here 
on  the  woody  shores  of  the  sunset  are  the  castellated  headlands 
of  the  Whulge.  One  of  the  old  legends  states  that  the  tamanous 
once  stole  the  sun  and  hid  it.  It  was  happily  found,  and  the  theft  is 
not  likely  to  occur  again  in  tlie  new  empire  of  the  North  and  West, 
that  will  one  day  largely  dominate  the  States,  and  perhaps  lead  the 
thoughts  of  mankind. 


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CHAPTER    III. 

SOME    WONDERFUL    STATISTICS. 

T  one  of  his  lectures  before  the  Grace  Darling  Insti- 
tute Mr.  Letle  made  a  tabular  statement  which 
greatly  surprised  young  Charles  Hampden  as  well  as 
the  sons  of  the  sailors.  He  pronounced  the  words  of 
this  statement  so  slowly  a'^d  evenly  and  impressively 
that  it  made  even  statistics  interesting,      ilc  said:  — 

*'  The  Island  of  Great  Britain  has  about  90,000  scjuare  miles.  New 
England,  in  the  United  States,  which  includes  six  States,  has  ')5,ooo 
square  miles.  The  great  State  of  New  York  contains  47,000  square 
miles,  and  the  State  of  New  Hampshire,  the  New  England  Switzer- 
land, about  9,000  square  miles. 

"  Now,  boys,  listen.  The  original  British  Columbia,  the  real 
American  Switzerland,  contains  220,000  square  miles,  and  i-  not 
only  much  greater  than  the  United  Kingdom  of  Great  Britam  and 
Ireland  (32,000  square  miles),  but  would  make  four  countries  as 
large  as  old  England,  three  countries  larger  than  New  England, 
four  countries  larger  than  New  York,  and  more  than  twenty  coun- 
tries as  large  as  New  Hampshire.  Yet  British  Columbia  is  not  so 
large  as  the  State  of  Texas,  which  has  an  area  of  274,000  square 
miles.  The  most  wonderful  American  province  of  tlie  English  crown 
is  British  Columbia,  and  it  must  one  day  rise  to  one  of  the  great 
maritime  powers  of  the  world." 

Mr.  Lette  delighted  to  repeat  this  prophetic  statement. 


il    !'fl 


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54 


ZIGZAG   JOURNEYS  IN  THE  GREAT  NORTHWEST. 


There  was  another  tabular  statement  which  he  made  in  regard 
to  the  Swiss  Alps  and  the  American  Rocky  Mountain  sj'Stems  of 
British  Columbia  and  the  Californian  Sierras,  which  as  greatly  aston- 
ished Aunt  Mar. 

"  The  superficial  area  of  Swit- 
zerland," he  said,  "  not  including 
the  Lakes,  is  about  15,000  square 
miles.  The  mean  elevation  of  the 
highest  range  of  mountains  is  from 
8,000  to  9,000  feet.  The  highest 
point  of  the  St.  Bernard  Pass  is 
7,190  feet,  and    of  the   Great   St. 


A    HUMBLE   BUT    llAl'l'V    HOMK. 


Dernard,  8,170.  The  loftiest  pass  in  the  Alps  (Col  of  Mont  Cervin) 
is  11,200  feet.  This  is  the  highest  pass  in  Europe.  Mont  Blanc  is 
15,744  ^eet  hjf^h,  —  a  little  higher  than  Mount  Tacoma;  the  Jung- 
frau  is  13,716  feet  high.  But  Mount  Brown,  in  British  Columbia, 
is  16,000  feet  high  ;  and  there  is  a  single  plain  in  Montana 
which  is  as  large  as  the  States  of  Ohio  and  Indiana  combined,  and 
in  which  four  Switzerlands  might  be  placed  and  be  overlooked  by 
the  American  Alps  around  them.  As  I  find  myself  often  saying, 
there  is  a  single  glacier  in  British  Columbia  that  probably  contains 
more    ice   than    is   to   be  found   on  all  the   Alps.     But  the   ranges  of 


SOME    WONDERFUL  STATISTICS. 


55 


the  Rockies  which  run  through  the  Sierras  south,  and  to  Alaska 
north,  form  a  system  that  leaves  the  Alps  a  mere  child  in  com- 
parison. Let  me  make  an  arithmetical  table  of  the  two  Switzer- 
lands  on  the  blackboard. 


British  Columbia 220,000  square  miles. 

Switzerland  and  Alpine  Provinces 20,000      "         " 

200,000      "  " 

"  I  have  included  the  Lakes  and  the  old  boundaries  in  this  state- 
ment. How  does  it  look  t  Would  you  nor  think  that  an  American 
traveller  would  wish  to  see  his  own  land  before  seeing  Europe?" 

The  free  use  of  such  statistics  as  these  so  greatly  interested  the 
boys  of  the  Institute  in  this  won- 
derful empire  of  the  Northwest, 
that  they  began  to  make  inquiries 
how  an  emigrant  from  Europe 
could  go  there,  and  what  were 
the  terms  of  obtaining  land  and 
making  settlements.  Mr.  Lette 
appointed  an  evening  for  a  very 
curious  lecture,  which  should  con- 
sist of  answering  such  questions 
in  regard  to  emigration  and 
homcstcading  as  any  of  the  boys 
might  like  to  ask.     Among  the  questions  asked  were  these:  — 

Question.  Who  are  entitled  to  government  lands,  and  how  may 
such  lands  be  obtained  by  the  etnigrant  t 

Ansiver.  Any  male  person  over  twenty-one  years  of  age  can  obtain 
a  homestead  of  one  hundred  and  sixty  acres  free  on  the  public  lands 
in  Canada  by  paying  ten  dollars,  or  two  pounds,  as  an  entrance  fee. 
Farms  may  be  purchased  at  anv  price,  from  one  dollar,  or  four  shillings, 
per  acre,  upward.     The  Canadian  Pacific's  grant  of  government  lands 


SHEF.P-SHKAKING 


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56 


ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS  IN   THE   GREAT  NORTHWEST. 


consists  of  twenty-five  million  acres  stretching  through  a  large  portion 
of  the  Dominion.  These  lands  are  offered  at  $2.50  per  acre,  with  a 
condition  of  rebate  in  case  of  immediate  cultivation.  Each  male  mem- 
ber of  a  large  family,  if  of  age,  might  secure  one  hundred  and  sixty 


acres  of  the  government,  and  pur- 
chase other  lands  of  the  railroad, 
and    so  secure   an    immense  estate 

for  a  very  little  money.  A  family  of  four  might  obtaiii  a  farm  of 
one  thousand  acres  at  less  cost  than  as  many  dollars,  including  a 
house  and  sheds.  Aliens  may  acquire  lands  the  same  as  British- 
born  subjects. 

Q.  What  would  be  the  probable  cost  of  settlement  on  a  one  hun- 
dred and  sixty  acre  grant  for  the  first  five  years,  and  what  the  gain  ? 

A.  According  to  Magoun's  "  Manitoba"  it  would  be  nearly  as  fol- 
lows. I  quote  the  figures  of  Magoun.  as  his  estimates  are  ijitelHgcnt, 
and  as  nearly  correct  as  such  calculations  can  be  made. 


SOME    WONDERFUL   STATISriCS.  .       57 

First  Year. 

Expenditure  of  settler  witli  family  of  five,  for  provisions,  etc.,  one  year  5250.00 

One  yoke  of  oxen        125.00 

One  cow 35-oo 

Breaking-plough  and  harrow .55"00 

Wagon «°oo 

Implements,  etc ' •     •     •  25.00 

Cook-stove,  etc.,  complete 25.00 

Furniture       25.00 

Tent     .     :          .         '°-°° 

Sundries _So.oo 

Outlay  for  First  Year $660.00 

At  the  end  of   the  year   he  will    have  a  comfortable  log-house, 
barn,  etc.,  cattle,  implements,  and  say  twenty  acres  of  land   broken, 

ready  for  seed. 

Second  Year. 

Will  realize  from  twenty  acres,  600  bushels  of  grain  at  60  c.  (which  is 

a  low  figure) $360.00 

Expenditure 300.00 

Profit $60.00 

And  he  will  have  an  additional  twenty  acres  of  land  broken. 

Third  Year. 

Forty  acres  will  give  him  1.200  bushels  of  grain,  at  60  c $720.00 

Will  pay  for  land         $160.00 

Expenditure,  including  additional  stock  and  implements     .     .     .      500.00 

660.00 

.                                                 Profit     .     .         $60.00 

And   he  will,  with  his  increased  stock  and  other  facilities,  be  able 
to  break  a'c  least  thirty  acres. 

Fourth  Year. 

Seventy  acres  will  give  him  2,100  inishcls  of  grain  at  60  c $1,260.00 

Less  expenditure  for  further  stock,  implements,  and  other  necessaries  600.00 

Profit $660,00 

And  another  thirty  acres  broken. 


'<   \\m 


58 


ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS  IN  THE   GREAT  NORTHWEST. 


■<       ! 


^^• 


Fifth   Year, 

loo  acres  will  give  him  3,000  bushels  of  grain,  at  60  c $1,800.00 

Less  same  expenditure  as  previous  year 600.00 

I'rofit $1,200.00 

At  the  end  of  the  fifth  year  he  will  stand  as  follows :  — 

Cash,  or  its  equivalent,  on  hand $1,980.00 

160  acres  of  land  increased  in  value  to  at  least  $5  per  acre 800.00 

House  and  barn,  low  appraisal .       250.00 

Stock,  including  cattle  and  horses 600.00 

Machinery  and  farm  implements,  50  per  cent  of  cost       200.00 

Furniture,  etc 150.00 

$3,980.00 
Less  outlay  first  year 660.00 

To  credit  of  farm $3,320.00 

Q.  What  is  the  United  States  law  in  regard  to  the  securing  gov- 
ernment land  } 

A.  Any  citizen  or  intending  citizen  can  take  government  land, 
and  the  same  with  unmarried  women.  All  the  adult  members  of  a 
family,  except  wives,  can  obtain  quarter  sections.  These  lands  may 
be  obtained,  first,  by  homesteading,  for  which  the  fee  for  one  hundred 
and  sixty  acres  is  fourteen  dollars ;  by  pre-emption,  for  which  the 
fee  for  filing  papers  is  five  dollars ;  and  by  planting  trees.  A  single 
person  may  secure  four  hundred  and  eighty  acres. 

Q.    How  are  these  lands  to  be  found  } 

A.  By  application  to  the  government  land-offices  in  the  Dominion 
or  in  the  United  .States,  which  will  furnish  free  circulars  of  informa- 
tion. Immense  tracts  of  land  in  the  Western  Canadian  provinces,  and 
in  Montana  and  the  Northwestern  .States,  are  still  subject  to  home- 
steading,  pre-emption,  and  tree  claims. 

Q.    What  is  the  climate  of  this  Northwestern  Empire  ? 

A.    In  the  regions  of  the  Chinook  winds,  which  include    British 


HOME    WOXDERFUL  STATISTICS. 


59 


Columbia,  and  the  States  of  Washington,  Oregon,  and  Montana,  the 
climate  is  an  almost  continuous    A.pril. 

Q.   What  are  the  Chinook  currents  of  air  and  water  ? 
A.    The   Chinook   current    is   a  warm    stream   of   air   and    water 
that   flows   from    Japan    along    the   coast    of    Alaska   and   down    to 

California.     It 
causes       warm 
rains,  prevents  se- 
vere    frosts,    and 
melts  snow.  There 
is   but   'ittle   win- 
ter weather  in  the 
Provinces     and 
_^     States  that  bor- 
der  on  the  Pu- 
get  Sound.     Near 
the    Pacific   coast 
roses  bloom  out  of 
doors    at    Christ- 
mas.   Winter  here 
is  usually  a  rainy 
season,  like    early    April    in   England  and  New 
England,  and  it  rains  chiefly  at  nigiit, 

Q.  What  is  likely  to  be  the  future  of  these  Provinces 
and  States? 

A.    They  are  likely  to  become  the  most  populous, 
rich,  and  powerful  political  divisions  of   the  world. 

There  was  one  plan  of  biographical  and  historical  education 
adopted  by  Mr.  Lette  for  the  use  of  the  Institute,  which  he  call;"d 
Audience  Lectures,  and  which  proved  so  successful  that  we  must 
depart  somewhat  from  our  narrative  to  commend  it  here.  It  made 
the  boys  in   reality  their  own  lecturers.     Mr.    Lette    would  give   the 


LOST   SHEEP. 


-> 


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li 


60 


ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS  IN   THE  GREAT  NORTHWEST. 


A   FAKM    IN   THE   NORTHWEST. 


Ik!:* 


school  a  topic,  and  explain  it,  then   ask    that  on  a  certain   evening 
the  boys  relate  as  many  illustrations  of  it  as  they  could  secure.     The 

boy  who  brought  the  best 
illustration  was  offered 
a  prize,  and  what  was 
the  best  illustration 
was  decided  by  a  vote 
of  the  school.  For  ex- 
ample, Mr.  Lette  would 
say,  on  announcing  a 
topic,  something  as 
follows :  "  Next  week  on 
Thursday  evening  we  will  have  an 
audience  lecture  on  '  Boys  who  were 
Laughed  At.'  Let  me  advise  you  to 
read  '  Martyrs  of  Science,'  the  works  of 
Samuel  Smiles,  and  the  popular 
books  that  relate  to  early  strug- 
gles, such  as  '  Men  who 
have  Arisen,'  and  '  Turn- 
ing-Points  in  Life.' " 

We   will  give  a  spe- 
cimen   of    one    of    these 
audience  lectures  as  con- 
ducted by  Mr.  Lette 
The   plan    is    wor- 
thy of  imitation  in 
schools.        On    the 
evening  of  the  lee- 
the  following  illus- 
and  we  will  ask  the 
before  we  give  the  result  of  the  vote  of  the  Institute  on  the  subject. 


^P»^i^- 


IMPATIENT  FOK  THEIR   BREAKFASTS." 

ture  on  "  Boys  who  were  Laughed  At," 
trations  were  presented  bv  the  boys; 
reader   to  decide    which    is    the    best, 


HOME    WONDERFUL   SIAT/ST/CS. 


6i 


Columbus. 

"  Do  you  suppose  that  there  is  a  part  of  the  world  where  trees  grow  upward, 
and  people  stand  upon  their  heads?  "  asked  a  learned  ecclesiastic  of  Salamanca 
of  the  council  assembled  to  consider  the  claims  of  a  young  man  named  Colon, 
to  be  sent  on  a  voyage  of  discovery. 


P'ULTON. 

"  Let  us  go  and  see 
that  crazy  man  try  to 
sail  a  boat  by  steam," 
said  one  to  an  idle  crowd 
in  New  York.  They 
hurried  off  to  the  Hud- 
son. Thousands  were 
there  to  see  that  crazy 
man's  novel  experiment. 
That  boat  went. 

Disraeli. 


RELUCTANT    TO   f;0    HOMF.. 


When  Disraeli   first 
attempted  to  speak  in  Parliament,  he  pitched  his  voice  too  high,  and  the  Com- 
mons roared  with  laughter.      "  You  will  not  hear  me  now,"  he  said,  "  but  the 
time  will  come  when  you  shall  hear  me."     That  time  came. 


John  Hunter, 

Science  is  one  long  record  of  the  ridicule  of  new  discovery.  Dr.  John 
Hunter's  discoveries  in  anatomy  were  the  gibes  of  the  medical  profession. 
When  one  physician  laughed  at  him  because  he  did  not  publish  his  investiga- 
tions in  Latin.  Dr.  Hunter  sharply  returned,  "  I  would  teach  him  on  a  dead 
body  what  he  never  knew  in  any  language,  Latin  or  Greek."  Jenncr  (who  first 
vaccinated)  was  both  ridiculed  and  abused. 

While  the  first  steamboat  was  crossing  the  Atlantic  ocean,  a  pamphlet  was 
being  circulated,  showing  how  futile  and  visionary  was  such  a  plan,  and  that 
it  could  never  be  accomplished.  Edison's  inventions  have  even  in  recent  years 
been  treated  in  the  same  manner. 


iAM 


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62 


ZIGZAG  JOURMCYS  IN   THE  GREAT  NORTIIIVEST. 


:1 


it- 


t  !i. 


Poets. 

The  early  poems  of  Wordsworth  were  criticised  as  being  next  to  idiotic. 
Byron  says  that  this  poet  wrote  so  naturally  of  the  "  Idiot  Hoy,"  that  he  must  be 
the  hero  of  his  own  tale. 

Tennyson's  early  volume,  "  The  Poems  of  Two  Brothers,"  was  a  failure, 
and  some  twelve  years  passed  before  he  began  to  publish  those  ideal  poems 
which  were  at  first  received  as  lunacy,  but  which  have  made  him  the  poet 
of  the  age. 

Longfellow's  early  poems  were  laughed  at  by  the  imaginative  Poc,  who 
found  in  them  only  mediocrity,  with  little  indication  of  genius  or  promise. 

Near  the  close  of  the  last  century  there  came  into  an  editor's  office  in 
London  a  young  man  of  diffident  manners  and  rustic  appearance. 

"  Is  the  editor  in?" 

"  I  am  the  acting  editor." 

"  I  have  a  poem  on  country  life  which  it  would  please  me  to  have  published. 
I  am  inexperienced,  but  I  thought  perhaps  you  would  read  it  and  give  me  some 
friendly  advice." 

Any  gentleman  would  have  received  such  a  contribution  in  the  true  spirit 
of  courtesy.  But  this  editor  was  one  of  those  men  without  double  sight,  and  he 
took  the  manuscript  as  a  joke,  to  use  it  as  a  joke.  He  read  it  with  immoder- 
ate laughter  after  the  friendless  young  man  had  gone,  and  violated  every  law 
of  good-breeding  by  reading  it  to  a  friend,  in  order  to  show  what  ridiculous 
creatures  there  are  in  the  world. 

The  author  had  come  from  the  fields.  His  home  was  now  a  London  garret, 
and  in  that  dreary  place  he  had  fondly  dreamed  of  the  old  rustic  cottage,  the 
hedge-rows  and  trees,  the  flocks,  herds,  and  farm  life. 

The  poem  found  a  publisher  at  last,  despite  some  bad  spelling,  which  is  a 
minoi*  defect  in  the  manuscript  of  a  good  poem.  It  was  called  "  The  Farmer's 
Boy."  It  went  over  England  and  made  the  writer  famous.  That  man  was 
KcbeAt  Bloomfield. 

An  Architect. 

( 
\ 

When  prizes  were  offered  in  England  for  the  best  models  of  an  industrial 
palace  for  all  nations,  there  came  into  the  day-dreams  of  an  unknown  man  of 
genius  a  plan  of  such  a  palace,  that  haunted  him  night  and  day.  "  That  is  the 
way  the  world's  palace  should  be  built,"  he  said  ;  "  iron  and  glass,  iron  and 
glass."  He  worked  out  his  plan  on  iron  and  glass,  and  sent  it  to  the  royal 
commissioners.     People  thought  him  a  fool.      Architects  thought  him  a  fool 


"NO   ARCHITECT    EVER    DREAMED   OF   SUCH    A   STRUCTURE   BEFORE.' 


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SOME    WONDERFUL   STA  riS77C:S. 


65 


The  commissioners  themsclv'.'s  hardly  knew  whether  he  was  a  fool  or  a  genius. 
It  was  an  Aladdin's  palace  that  he  had  -.eat  them,  a  poet's  dream,  a  thing 
of  air. 

But  the  plan  haunted  every  eye  that  saw  it,  as  it  had  haunted  the  inventor. 
Iron  and  glass,  -  the  light  frame  of  iron  throwing  the  great  mountain  of  glass, 
like  a  great  crystal  hemisphere,  into  the  air.  Would  the  world  laugh  at  it,  or 
admire  it?     No  architect  ever  dreamed  of  such  a  structure  before. 

Men  laughed  and  laughed,  but  the  plan  was  accepted.  The  crystal  struc- 
ture rose  like  a  thing  of  fancy  that  would  dissolve  in  the  twilight  and  depart 
with  the  daylight.  The  old  architects  shook  their  heads,  and  criticised,  and 
laughed. 

But  London  began  to  admire  the  poet-like  structure  as  it  grew,  the  archi- 
tects began  to  discuss  the  matter,  and  the  world  to  wonder  at  a  building  that 
"  should  not  have  b',  en  so."  The  stupendous  covering  stood  at  last,  a  thing  of 
light  and  air,  glimmering  in  the  sun.  The  obscure  architect,  a  common  work- 
ingman,  was  called  forth  to  be  knighted,  and  to  receive  the  admiration  of  the 
world.  The  building  that  ought  not  to  be,  w:is.  ICvery  intelligent  eye  in  the 
world  now  sees  it  in  imagination,  —  the  London  Crystal  Palace. 


11 


Thomas  Cari.vle. 

Souiething  over  half  a  century  ago  there  lived  a  young  man  in  the  "  lone- 
lie:,t  nook  in  Britain,"  as  he  said  in  a  letter  to  Goethe,  "among  the  granite  hills 
and  the  black  morasses  which  stretch  westward  through  Galloway  almost  to  the 
Irish  .Sea."  He  had  been  a  laughed-at  bo\-,  a  [)rodigious  devourer  of  books, 
a  silent  thinker;  ami  a  terrible  conflict  in  regard  to  the  truths  of  life  at  last 
agitated  his  soul.  On  a  moorland  farm  he  gave  expression  to  this  agitation 
in  a  manuscript  which  he  named  "  Sartor  Resartus,"  —  the  tailor  rcclothed,  or, 
after  the  manner  of  the  old  Scottish  song,  "  the  tailor  done  over."  The  manu- 
script was  sent  to  various  London  firms  and  was  rejected,  with  the  wi-;c  opiiu'ons 
of  the  critical  readers. 

I''inding  a  publisher  at  last  in  "  I'^-aser's  Magazine,  "  and  also  in  America, 
the  "rcclothed  tailor"  went  forth  to  the  view  of  the  world  to  receive  its  valu- 
able critical  opinion.  It  is  said  that  when  John  Stuart  Mill,  held  to  be  the  most 
competent  authority  even  at  that  time,  first  read  the  work,  he  pronounced  it 
"  the  stupidest  piece  of  stuff  that  lu-  over  set  eyes  on."  The  young  writer  him- 
self, in  after  years,  published  main'  of  the  bad  things  said  of  the  redressed  tailor. 
Among  them  are  the  following:  — 

"The  author  has  no  great  tact;  his  wit  is  frequently  heavy,  and  reminds 

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ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS  IN  THE   GREAT  NORTHWEST. 


one  of  the  Cierman  baron  who  took  to  leaping  over  tables,  and  said  that  he 
was  trying  to  be  lively."  ^ 

" '  Sartor  Resartus '  is  what  old  Dennis  would  call  a  '  heap  of  clotted 
nonsense,' "  etc.^ 

"  An  author  who  treats  of  dress,  appeals,  like  the  poet,  to  young  men  and 
maidens,  and  calls  upon  them  to  buy  his  book.  When,  after  opening  their 
purses  for  this  purpose,  th::y  have  carried  home  the  work  in  triumph,  expect- 
ing to  find  in  it  some  particular  inspiration  in  regard  to  the  tying  of  their 
neck-cloths  or  the  cut  of  dieir  corsets,  and  meet  with  nothing  better  than  a 
dissertation  on  things  in  general,  they  will  —  to  use  the  mildest  term  —  not  be 
in  very  good  humor.  If  the  last  improvements  in  legislation  which  we  have 
made  in  this  country  should  have  found  their  way  to  England,  the  author,  we 
think,  would  stand  some  chance  of  being  lynched."'^ 

Stanley. 

The  influence  of  Henry  Stanley  has  touched  the  heart  of  humanity.  In 
some  respects  the  African  explorer  transcends  all  the  men  of  the  age.  Africa 
will  be  likely  to  owe  her  civilization  in  the  future  largely  to  him. 

Brought  up  in  a  parish  workshop  in  Wales,  he  landed  on  our  shores  all 
alone  in  the  world.  A  New  Orleans  merchant  pitied  the  boy,  and  gave  him  a 
home  and  his  own  name,  Stanley.  The  boy's  soul  longed  for  a  worth)-  life 
and  noble  achievement.  The  world  listened  only  to  laugh.  Rejected  by  a 
young  lady  to  whom  he  had  offered  his  hand,  he  is  reported  to  have  said  one 
day  to  a  friend,  "  It  does  seem  that  the  world  has  no  place  for  me,  and  I  am 
tempted  to  commit  suicide." 

Hut  he  found  a  way  into  the  ranks  of  men.  He  offered  his  life  for  Living- 
stone.  It  was  accepted  for  Africa,  and  the  world  has  it.  His  first  offer  was 
made  amid  a  storm  of  ridicule,  and  the  world  long  refused  to  believe  his  story 
of  the  marvellous  exploration.  Hut  In-  is  to-day  the  companion  of  kings, 
statesmen,  and  the  greatest  scientists.  The  public  had  nearly  laughed  his 
highest  convictions  out  of  him,  but  on  the  wings  of  his  inspiration  he  rose 
over  all.  luitering  the  great  arena  of  the  world  like  Melchizedek  or  I'^lijah, 
without  even  a  name,  his  faith  has  set  his  deeds  among  the    ♦^arp. 

Mr.  Lette  added  to  these  illustrations  Keats  and  VV^agner,  and 
then  related  the  follow! nij;  incident,  with  inferential  remark.s. 


'  Bookseller 


-  Sun  New.spaper,  iX34- 


Nortli  American  Review,  1835. 


I 


SOME    IVOXDERFUL  STATISTICS. 


Young  Lincoln. 


67 


Some  years  ago  I  visited  Springfield,  111.,  and  stood  at  the  tomb  of  Abraham 
Lincoln,  The  country  had  already  placed  the  hero's  fame  among  the  greatest 
apostles  of  democracy,  and  that  fame  has  steadily  grown,  until  Lincoln's  name- 
stands  to  the  world  for  the  genius  of  free  and  progressive  America.  The  monu- 
ment with  its  heroic  figures  and  emblems  stood  in  the  sun,  amid  the  sea  of  corn- 
fields and  wheat-fields.  The  city,  like  a  new  Troy,  was  buildmg  beyond  it,  piling 
up  its  honest  wealth.  The  living  spirit  of  Lincoln  seemed  to  be  everywhere,  —  in 
the  old  home,  the  half-finished  State  House,  the  flag,  and  universal  prosperity. 

I  met  at  Springfield  an  old  uian  who  had  been  an  intimate  friend  of  the 
great  commoner  President  in  his  boyhood.  1  will  repeat,  very  nearly  as  1 
heard  it,  one  of  his  reminiscences. 

"  You  ought  to  have  seen  Lincoln  when  he  was  a  young  man,  and  just 
beginning  to  study  law.  He  was  the  curiousest-lookin'  fellow  one  ever  saw. 
He  used  to  wear  blue  jean  trousers,  and  he  was  so  tall  that  they  only  came 
down  a  little  below  the  knees.  The  folks  used  to  laugh  at  him,  but  everybod)' 
knew  he  had  an  honest  soul. 

*'  vVe  boys  used  to  sit  down  on  a  log  at  early  evening,  and  how  he  used 
to  talk  to  us  and  tell  stories ! 

"  The  w.orld  laughed,  but  there  was  a  power  in  him  even  then.  He  used 
to  walk  ten  miles  to  borrow  law-books,  and  people  must  have  thought  it  rather 
queer  that  Abe  should  take  to  the  law.  On  his  return  home,  after  going  tt) 
borrow  the  books,  he  would  sit  down  half-way  on  a  log  by  the  roadside  and 
stud)',  he  was  so  eager  to  make  the  most  of  everything.  The  world  laughed 
then ;   it  does  not  laugh  now." 

Here,  indeed,  is  a  picture  of  -r  law  student.  Walking  ten  miles  to  borrow 
law-books,  and  studying  them  on  wayside  logs  in  pioneer  Illinois!  It  is  saiil 
that  he  believed  he  would  one  day  be  President,  even  when  he  made  a  log  his 
rostrum  and  the  weary  emigrant  boys  his  senate.  Who  would  have  dreamed 
that  in  that  laughed-at  youth  God  had  chosen  his  prophet  of  humanity,  who 
would  call  to  the  battle-field  a  million  of  men,  who  would  emancipate  a  race, 
ami  who,  over  a  mighty  graveyard  of  dead  heroes,  would  speak  words  that 
would  live  and  breathe  through  the  ages? 

Uo  not  be  discouraged  by  a  sneer.  A  sneer  is  a  small  weapon,  which 
strong  men  never  use.  F'ollow  your  highest  inspiration,  holding  to  God, 
blind  to  ridicule  and  deaf  to  all  the  auction-bells  of  "  X'anity  I'air."  Never 
did  a  man  gain  the  celestial  knighthood  without  passing  the  slender  spears 
nf  ridicule.      I'aith  is  success,  no  matter  what  the  world  may  say. 


m 


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1! 


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mmmsm 


68 


ZJGZAU   JOUIi.\'E]S  JX  THE   GREAT  aXORTHVVEST. 


To  sum  up :  Any  joung  man  who  has  an  original  i)urposc  in  life  will  fall 
under  ridicule ;  but  if  it  be  a  right  purpose  and  an  inspiration,  and  he  pursue 
it,  he  will  be  respected  in  the  end,  and  that  in  proportion  t(j  the  courage  of 
his  convictions. 


He  laughs  best  who  laughs  last." 


The  boys  voted  that  Mr.  Lette's  illustration  was  the  most  effec- 
tive. The  story  of  President  Lincoln's  struggle  to  read  law  seemed 
to  touch  their  hearts. 

Among  the  most  studious  boys  in  the  Institute  was  Arthur  Burns. 
His  father  had  perished  off  Faroe.  On  hearing  Mr.  Lette  describe 
the  opportunities  for  the  emigrant  in  British  Columbia  and  in  the 
United  States,  he  desired  to  return  to  America  with  the  explorer, 
and  to  secure  a  farm  by  homesteading  or  pre-emption.  He  was  intro- 
duced to  young  Charles  Hampden  by  Mr.  Lette,  and  the  two  boss 
became  friends.  .       : 

"  I  would  sjo  to  British  Columbia  and  .settle,  if  I  had  the  means," 
said  Arthur  to  Charles  one  day.  "  How  could  I  earn  the  necessary 
money.?" 

"  I  do  not  know,"  said  Charles.  "  I  would  be  glad  to  go  to  Wash- 
ington and  find  employment  in  Seattle  or  Tacoma,  and  take  a  home- 
stead in  that  State  or  in  Arizona  when  I  become  of  age." 

"  I  wish  we  might  visit  the  Northwestern  Empire  together,"  said 
Arthur.  "  I  dream  of  America  continually,  and  I  like  you  because 
you  are  an  American  boy." 

Charles  told  Mr.  Lette  of  Arthur's  dream  and  ambition. 

"Could  we  not  in  some  way  raise  the  money  for  Arthur  to  emi- 
grate .? "  asked  Charles.  "  What  would  a  second-class  passage  to 
Quebec  be  ? " 

"  About  /^7,  or  thirty-five  dollars." 

"And  how  much  the  fare  from  Quebec  to  Vancouver.'*" 

"  About  as  much  more,  emigrant  fare." 

"Seventy  dollars,  or  ^14,"  said  Charles.  "How  much  would  it 
cost  to  settle  him  on  a  claim.''" 


and 
farn 
or 


^OMJ-:    WOXDEKFUL   STATIHriCS. 


69 


"HF.    WOULn    SIT    fK)W\    ON    A    I.dC    l!V    TIIF.    HOAHSTDF." 

"About  ten  dollars  for  fees,  and  twenty  dollars  for  a  log  house; 
and  he  should  have  some  one  hundred  dollars  for  provisions,  board, 
farming  implements,  and  early  emergencies.  Two  hundred  dollars, 
or  ^40,  would  give  him   a  start  for  the  first  year." 


ill 


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70 


ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS  )N   THE   GREAT  NORTHWEST. 


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"  Could  you  not  earn  this  money  for  him  through  the  school  ? " 

•'How?" 

"  By  giving  an  entertainment." 

"  What  ?     Will  you  suggest  one  ?  " 

"  A  comeciy  for  the  holidays." 

"What  shall  it  be?" 

"  Oh,  you  could  write  it.  The  most  humorous  story  that  you 
ever  heard." 

"  The  oddest  incident  I  ever  heard  of  for  a  platform  comedy  was 
an  experience  of  some  impoverished  travellers  in  the  old  Hotel  de 
Batteau." 

"What  was  that?" 

"  They  thought  that  a  French  costumer's  room  in  the  hotel  was 
a  den  of  thieves,  and  one  alarmed  another  until  the  scene  became 
very  comical,  and  ended  ridiculously  but  agreeably.  I  have  often 
thought  that  the  incident  might  be  made  a  pleasing  tableau  for 
exhibitions." 

"  Write  it  out,  will  you  not,  and  read  it  to  the  school,  and  if  the 
boys  like  it,  ask  them  if  they  will  give  it  as  an  exhibition  for  Arthur, 
to  help  him  emigrate.  A  good  exhibition  by  the  boys  would  yield 
two  hundred  dollars,  or  ^'40,  profit,  would  it  not?"  ,  ; 

"  Yes  ;  entertainments  given  by  the  boys  are  popular.  I  will  write 
out  the  incident  in  the  form  of  a  dialogue  for  the  tableau,  and  will 
read  it  to  the  school." 


% 


CHAPTER   IV. 


THE   COMEDY   FOR   THE   HOLIDAYS. 


HEN  he  next  met  the  boys  of  the  Institute,  Mr.   Lette 
said  :  — 

"  My  boys,  several  of  you  have  expressed  a  wish 
to  emigrate  to  the  Canadian  Provinces  or  to  the 
United  States,  and  to  settle  on  the  government  free 
lands.  But  only  one  of  you  is  of  age,  and  he  has  not  the  means  to 
emigrate.  I  have  a  plan  that  I  wish  to  bring  before  you.  It  is  to 
give  a  holiday  exhibition  of  a  humorous  dialogue  with  tableau,  and 
give  the  proceeds  to  Arthur  Burns,  who  is  of  age,  to  enable  him  to 
go  to  British  Columbia  and  make  a  settlement  there.  If  the  j)lan 
proves  successful,  it  can  be  repeated  as  others  come  of  age.  Arthur 
would  correspond  with  you,  and  so  you  would  have  one  of  your  own 
number  on  the  field.      How  many  of  you  approve  of  the  plan  ?  " 

The  proposal  met  with  instant  favor.  To  have  one  of  their  own 
number  go  to  British  Columbia  and  prepare  the  way  for  others  was 
a  matter  of  intense  interest  to  them.  Every  boy  in  the  school  was 
ambitious  to  have  the  exhibition  take  place,  to  make  it  a  success,  and 
send   Arthur  Burns  to  America. 

"You  have  shown  a  truly  generous  spirit,"  said  Mr.  Lette.  "The 
next  thing  will  be  to  decide  what  the  exhibition  shall  be.  I  have 
written  a  humorous  dialogue,  or  comedy,  which  will  admit  of  some 
curious  historical  tableaux.  I  would  like  to  read  it  to  you,  and  illus- 
trate its  action  ;  and  if  you  like  it,  we  will  at  once  assign  the  parts 
to  the  speakers  and  begin  the  rehearsal." 


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72 


ZIGZAG  JOURAEYS  IN  THE  GREAT  NORTHWEST. 


Mr.  Lette  then  read  the  following  odd  comedy,  which  the  boys 
liked,  and  were  unanimous  in  favor  of  putting  upon  the  platform  as 
the  means   of  raising  money  for  Arthur. 


:(;(,■      I  : 


THE    HOTEL    DE    BATTEAU; 

OR,   LADY  BLESSINGTON'S   CHARITIES. 
""  A   Comedy  for  the  lloliiiays. 

CHARACIKRS. 

Mr.  Tkott,  an  American  traveller,  returning.  Ladv  BlkS-SINGTON.  a  London  philanthropist. 

Mrs.  Johns,  an  American  traveller,  returning.  *  Cuk.mk. 

Monsieur  la  Placi:,  a  French  traveller.  i  A  Frknch  Costumkr. 

Patrick  a.nd  Biohy.  Irish  lal)orers.  I  Characters  for  a  series  of  historical  tableaux. 

Hans  Listman,  a  German  violinist.  | 


PART   I. 

ScKXE  I.  A  platform  representing^  parts  of  tioo  rooms  liavini^  a  partition  l/eticeen  them, 
with  a  t/oor,  and  over  the  door  a  transom,  whieh  may  l>e  looked  throii^^h  by  a  person 
standin\:^  in  a  ehair.  One  room  represents  a  traveller's  bedroom,  ami  the  other  the 
apartment  of  a  Freneh  eostumer.  The  latter  contains  masks,  wii^s,  costumes,  face 
paints  and  powders,  and  a  lari:;e  chest. 

Tlioinas  Trott  (aloue).  Here  1  am  in  London  a^f.iin,  and  London  is  the 
world.  This  room  docs  look  uninviting.  I  must  confess,  l)ut  it  will  answer 
for  a  week  in  winter,  when  the  skies  are  all  clouds  and  the  streets  rivers  of 
fog.  When  I  was  in  London  in  the  simimer,  and  took  rooms  at  Charing 
Cross,  and  passed  my  .ifternoons  at  Rotten  Row  and  my  evenings  in  St.  James 
Park,  how  delightful  it  was  !  Hut  now  my  letter  of  credit  is  exhausted,  and 
I  have  only  £2  left  for  a  week's  board,  and  to  pa\'  my  f.ire  to  Liverpool  for 
the  returning  steamer,  and  I  shall  have  to  practise  the  closest  economy.  Mr. 
liound,  whom  I  met  at  Lucerne,  said  that  the  H6tel  de  Rattcau  was  an  ex- 
cellent lodging-house.  Lodging-house !  How  cheap  that  sounds  after  my 
summer  and  fall  life  in  the  great  hotels  of  the  Continent;  weeks  at  l^aslc, 
Geneva,  and  Lucerne,  in  apartments  fit  for  lords  and  ladies,  and,  for  that 
matter,  often  occupied   by  such  grand  ])eople! 


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THE   COMEDY  FOR    THE  HOLIDAY:^, 


75 


Hark,  hear  the  water  run !  'I'lie  river  Thames,  I  suppose,  though  it 
might  be  a  canal  for  aught  I  could  tell  in  the  fog.  The  Hotel  tie  IJatteau. 
What  a  place  for  a  tragedy  this  would  be,  for  a  robbi  y,  and  the  body  to  be 
thrown  into  the  river  below!  An  American  all  alone  —  no  moon,  no  stars, 
only  misty  lamps  in  the  fog!  I  ha\e  read  of  such  things  in  such  places.  Just 
as  likely  to  be  me  as  any  one  else.  Papers  have  accounts  of  such  things  every 
d.iy,  and  Heaven  only  knows  how  many  crimes  the  night  waters  of  the  Thames 
cover.  Hodies  may  have  been  thrown  out  of  that  very  window,  splash,  that 
would  be  all.  Oh,  it  makes  me  shiver!  Where's  my  pocket-book.^  Here, 
in  my  under  pocket.  Let  me  see  how  much  -  Oh  yes  !  I  haven't  anything 
in  it,  like  Lucy  Lockett,  —only  £2\  that  relieves  me.  Hut  how  would  a 
robber  know  that?  Englisli  thieves  think  that  Americans  are  as  rich  as  the 
old  Incas  of  Peru;  but  as  little  as  I  have,  I  have  nothing  to  spare.  If  I  were 
to  lose  my  £2,  I  should  have  to  walk  from  London  t(  Liverpool,  ami  beg 
my  food  along  the  way.  It  is  well  that  I  have  a  return  ticket  to  New  \'ork. 
(^Look's  rif. ) 

What 's  that  over  the  door,  — •  a  transom  —  lattice  —  ventilator .  The 
door  is  locked.  I  wonder  what's  in  the  other  room.  Let  mc  try  the  door; 
fast.  Let  me  get  up  into  the  chair  and  see  what's  there.  No,  that  would  not 
be  honorable, — spying.  This  is  the  fir.st  time  that  I  was  ever  afraid  of  thiexes; 
but  the  room  does  look  bare  and  scary,  and  the  water  under  the  balcon\- 
goes  gurgle,  gurgle,  gurgle,  and  I  can  hear  cabs  rattling,  and  boatmen  swear- 
ing, and  the  city  is  as  black  as  the  shores  of  oblivion.  Oh,  that  gurgle,  gurgle, 
gurgle!  I  must  know  what's  in  there  if  it  is  spying.  I'm  suspicious. 
( Mounts  a  chair  and  looks  tlirougli  the  transom.  Starts  back  xvitJi  open  month 
and  start ng  eyes,  steps  dozvn  from  the  chair,  and  clasps  his  forehead  in  his  hands. ) 
What  a  place  is  that,  —  false  faces,  scalps,  dead  men's  clothes,  all  hanging  on 
the  walls !  I  do  believe  it  is  a  den  of  thieves.  1  should  be  safer  to  go  right 
out  into  the  night,  and  wander  the  streets  in  the  fog  and  slops,  and  dodge 
among  the  lamp-posts.  I  might  just  as  well  jump  out  of  the  window  and 
despatch  myself  at  once.  No!  1  will  get  my  pistols  and  will  watch.  They'll 
come  home  by-and-by.      {Rap,  tap,  tap  H     Who  is  there? 

Caller.     Monsieur  la  Place,  a  friend. 

Air.  Trott.    What  can  I  do  for  you,  Monsieur? 

Caller.    Will  Monsieur  the  .\mericanne  lend  me  a  match? 

Mr.  Trott.    Yes,  yes.     You  occupy  the  room  next  to  mine,  I  suppose? 

Caller.    Yes,  those  be  my  lodgings. 

Mr.  Trott.    Yes,  yes,  come  in  ;    this  is  an  awful  night !      Shocking  time  for  a 
tragedy,  or  a  ghost,  or  — 


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76 


ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS  /N   THE   GREAT  NORTHWEST. 


Caller.  Was  you  expecting  one  of  doze,  Monsieur  the  Aniericanne?  I 
hopes  not.     I  haf  never  been  disturbed  in  the  Hotel  de  llatteau. 

Mr.  Trott.    Here  —  matches.     {Hands  him  matches.^ 

Caller.  Merci  /  now  1  will  540.  I  beg  your  pardon  for  the  interruption. 
Monsieur  the  Americanne  looks  nervous  to-night. 

Mr.  Trott.  Stop!  {Makes  signs  for  silence.)  Listen!  {A  noise  is  heard  in 
the  adjoining  room,  into  whieh  the  costiivier  enters,  followed  by  txvo  young  men.) 
Thieves,  1  do  believe.  Put  your  ear  against  the  door  and  listen.  Don't  you 
leave  me !  I  know  that  you  are  an  honest  man,  if  you  are  a  —  F'rench  —  a 
foreigner.     There  's  something  wrong  in  this  house. 

Caller.  The  same  by  you,  Monsieur  the  Aniericanne;  I  think  you  be 
honest.     I  hears  nothing  strange.     Monsieur  is  nervous. 

Mr.  Trott.  Listen-  here  —  close  to  tlie  wall.  Do  you  hear  that?  {Both 
listen,  and  Mr.  Trott  acts  in  pantomime  his  surprise  and  horror  at  what  he  hears.) 

Room  No.  2.     A  room  with  a  window. 

Costumer.  So  you  would  be  Gog  and  Magog,  and  represent  London's 
legendary  period.  You  will  be  rather  hard  to  make  up.  But  I  have  made 
up  thieves  and  assassins  and  goblins,  and  even  centaurs,  and  I  will  try  to 
serve  you.  {Pantomime  of  suspicion  and  horror  in  Room  No.  i.)  Let  me 
see  who  you  are. 

\st  Masker.  You  know  that  the  thirty-three  daughters  of  the  Emperor 
Diocletian  all  despatched   their  husbands  — 

Mr.  Trott  {in  Room  No.  i).     Hear!   hear!      {In  a  whisper.^ 

xU  Masker.  And  were  sent  to  sea  in  a  ship,  and  came  to  London.  We 
are  their  descendants.  Our  fathers  were  giants.  We  stand  in  the  Guildhall. 
We  used  formerly  to  appear  in  all  the  Lord  Mayor's  shows.  We  were  burned 
in  the  great  fire.  We  used  to  stand  on  London  Bridge,  and  after  that  at 
Temple  Bar,  giants. 

2d  Masker.    We  ought  to  be  fourteen  feet  high  ;   ten  will  do. 

Costumer.    You  will  have  to  stand  on  two  barrels. 

Room  No.  i.  •     r 

Mr.  Trott.    Thirty-three  of  them  ! 
Frenchman.    Stand  in  the  Guildhall! 

Mr.  Trott.    Used  to  rob  people  on  London  Bridge  and  at  Temple  Bar.     I 
have  n't  anything  left.     This  is  all  very  mysterious. 
Frenchman.    It  is  very  mysterious. 
Mr.  Trott.    What  is  your  theory,  Monsieur? 
Frenchman.    I  think   that  is  one   place  of  thieves,  where  they  make  over 


THE   COMEVy  fan    THE  HOLIDAYS. 


11 


peoples;  chan<^e  dcr  color,  hair,  eyes,  and  teeth;  shorten  der  Icpfs,  put  a  hump 
on  der  back,  make  tall  peoples  short  and  short  peoples  tall ;  put  the  small- 
pox on  the  face;  make  white  peoples  black,  and  black  peoples  white,  and 
the  ICnj^lishman  a  I'Venchman,  and  the  I'riiichman  an  Englishman.  That  ish 
my  theory,  Monsieur  the  Englishman. 

Mr.  I'rott.     Do  they  —  do  they  have  such  places  as  that? 

Frenchman.     Oh,  oui — in  Paris,  we  do.     Make  one  all  over  anolhe.-  man. 

Mr.  Trutt.    This  is  a  wicked  world  indeed.     They  make  over  thieves? 

Frenchman.  Oh,  oni  —  der  own  mothers  would  not  know  them.  Uon't 
you  know?  Didn't  you  never  hear?  Make  o\er  one  thieve  uito  another  — 
all  just  the  same. 

Mr.  Trott.  This  is  awful.  What  was  it  he  said?  Thirt\-three  daughters 
of  the  emperor,  somebody  despatched  all  their  husbands,  and  he  ought  to 
stand  ten  feet  high.  Say,  if  you  were  in  my  place,  what  would  you  do? 
Open  the  window  and  cry  "Police,"  or  run?  Thirty-three  daughters!  Do 
you  think  that  I  am  in  my  right  senses?  I  never  drink,  nor  take  opium,  nor 
nothing.  Hark!  There  are  more  people  in  there  now,  —  women's  voices,  too. 
Thirty-three  daughters.  I  hope  it  is  n't  any  of  them.  Let  me  look  through 
the  transom  again.     You  be  quiet,  and  I  will  make  signs  to  you.     There  ! 

Room  No.  2. 

Costumer.    I  will  have  the  Gog  and  Magog  transformation  all  ready  on  the 

afternoon  before  the  act. 

Room  No.  i. 

Mr.  Trott.    He  is  talking  about  the  act. 

Costumer.     And  now,  ladies,  who  are  you  ? 

Ladies.  We  are  weeping  queens  from  th<;  Vale  of  Avallon.  Arthur  is 
wounded.  Shall  we  bring  him  in?  We  shall  need  to  make  a  study  of 
positions. 

Costumer.  Yes,  bring  him  in.  and  la\^  him  on  the  rug,  just  as  he  will  be. 
{Goi:[  and  MagOi^  bring  in  the  body  of  a  man,  and  lay  him  on  the  rug.) 

Room  No.  i. 

Mr.  Trott.  They  have  wax'laid  a  man.  They  are  bringing  in  his  body. 
He  is  dead,  or  dying,  with  his  eyes  rolling  about,  so.  Oh,  it  is  awful ;  I  tell  you 
it  is  awful.  We  must  call  the  police.  They  are  the  most  distraught  looking  .set 
of  people  I  ever  saw.     Let  me  step  down.     {Steps  doxvn.     Rap,  tap,  tap  .') 

Mr.  Trott.    Come  in. 

(Fnter  Patrick  and  Biddy ^) 

Patrick.  And  would  you  be  after  lending  us  a  match,  would  ye?  Sorry 
a  one  have  we  got,  an'  they  don't  furnish  no  matches  at  the  hoffice  at  all. 


i  1 


li 


': 


1 


I. 


-  i! 


^\i 


1 1  I  ■  ■ 

If 


t  • 

!  it 


i  J;. 


78 


ZIGZAG  JOURMCVS  li\   1111-:   GREAT  XORTHVVEST. 


We've  taken  a  room  adjoining  ye,  we  have,  in  the  Hotel  de  Hatteau,  and  it 
has  got  a  taller  dip,  and  nothin'  but  stick  of  wood  to  light  it  with.  We  would  n't 
be  after  goin'  to  bed  in  the  dark,  in  a  strange  place,  too.  There  might  be 
spooks  there,  or  a  secret  room,  or  — 

IvTi\  Trott  (^pointing  to  the  transom).  Secret  room.  There's  one  there 
now.  Oh-o-o!  They've  waylaid  a  man,  —  Arthur  is  his  name, — wounded 
in  the  Vale  of  Avallon,  wherever  that  may  be.  Gog  aiul  Magog  killed  him. 
Just  you  get  up  in  that  chair  and  look  through  that  transom,  and  tell  me  what 
you  sec. 

Patrick  (Jooking  through  the  transom).  They've  fetched  him,  sure.  Lot 
of  women  cryin'  over  him,  with  their  hair  all  streamin'  down  their  backs.  I  'd 
like  to  have  my  shillalah,  and  go  right  in  among  'em.  Oh,  Biddy,  we  must  get 
out  of  this  house  straight. 

Biddy.  An'  niver  a  wink  of  slape  will  I  take  now,  after  all  the  'orrid  sights 
>ou  are  tellin'  me.  I  knew  the  house  was  no  good,  when  I  heard  the  water 
runnin'  under  it  all  so  lonesome  like.  The  saints  preserve  us!  What  are  tiie)' 
doin'  now? 

Patrick.  The  man  is  dyin',  kind  o'  ginteely  like,  as  though  he  did  n't  care, 
and  the  women  are  all  tearin'  their  hair.  I  niver  see  the  loikes  o'  that. 
Are  we  all  crazy  now,  or  is  it  them?  They  told  me  this  was  the  Hotel  de 
Hatteau.  i 

Biddy.  f  I  only  had  that  ould  broomstick  of  mine  now,  —  the  one  I  left 
in  Sligo ;  you  knov.-  about  that,  I'at,  the  one  I  usetl  to  have  to  kape  me 
home  aftairs  all  so  stiddy  in  Sligo,  you  remember  that,  sure  you  do?  And 
what  are  thc\'  doin'  now? 

Patrick.  Ther 's  comin'  a  man  with  a  stuffed  cat  under  his  arm,  and  an- 
other man.  and  the}'  are  payin'  no  attention  at  all  to  the  dyin'  .Arthur,  but  are 
bowin'  and  bowin'.  and  sayin'  and  sayin',  "Did  ivor  a  subject  have  such  a 
prince?"  and  "  Did  ever  a  prince  have  such  a  subject?'  and  the  women  are  all 
smilin'  and  cailin'  him  "  Whittington,  thrice  Lord  Mayor  of  London."  The 
Lortl  Mayor  has  come,  sure,  with  a  stuffed  cat  under  his  arm,  and  now  they 
say  that  the  bow-bells  all  are  goin'  to  ring.  It  does  seem  to  me  that  I  must 
have  gone  out  of  my  senses.  Whore  are  wc,  Biddy?  Sure,  didn't  they  tell  us 
that  this  was  the  Hotel  de  B.itteau? 

(The  scenes  seen  through  the  transom  are  to  be  acted  in  Room  Xo.  J,  as  indi- 
cated by  the  dialogue.) 

Biddy.  I  think  that  \-ou  have  gone  daft,  sure,  Patrick.  Step  dov\  11  now, 
and  let  me  look  again.     (They  change  positions.     Ra/>,  tup,  tap!) 

Mrs.  yoJins.     Pardon,  friends;   the  lady  of  this  establish.ment  isapaii.   al.ir 


\  ,,: 


lie 


■/I 

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O 


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'V  i-  i 


k  y 


THE   COMEDY  FOR    JJ/E  JJOL/H.DS,  Si 

friend  of  tninc,  and  as  slic  takes  a  feu  t^enteel  lodgers,  I  liave  come  lure  anxm'^ 
all  these  tradespeople  on  my  way  home  to  America.  My  letter  of  credit  is 
running  close,  and  my  triend  the  Englisli  Madami.'  is  not  so  exacting  in  her 
charges  as  my  friend    Madame  of  the  (iolden   Ck 


)SS. 


an 


1    b 


orrow  a  match 


or  two?  I  occupy  a  rot)m  that  was  rented  by  the  late  Lady  Carroll.  \'ery 
ancient,  I  am  told,  is  this  same  Hotel  de  Batteau. 

Biddy.  Hush — tisL  —  thieves,  another  tragedy,  —  'orrid  !  No  —  they're 
goin'  to  have  a  weddin'  instid  of  a  funeral,  and  a  big  woman  is  singin'  —  list  — 
tish—  whurra! 

(^Song  is  heard  from  Room  No.  2.     So/o.-) 

'■  The  mistletoe  hung  in  the  castle  liall. 
The  lioiiy  Ijranch  shone  from  the  old  oak  wall, 
And  ti)e  baron's  retainers  were  lively  and  gay, 
A-keeping  their  Christmas  holiday. 
And  the  baron  beheld,  with  a  fatlier's  pride, 
His  beautiful  child,  young  Loveil's  bride, 
' '  And  she  with  her  bright  eyes  seemed  to  be 

The  pride  of  that  merry  company. 
Oh.  the  mistletoi'  bough. 
Oh,  the  mistletoe  boimh.'' 

Biddy.  Now  they  arc  all  dancing,  and  the  wounded  Arthur,  he  's  better, 
I   guess. 

(Sonjr.^  "  1   '^  weary  of  dancing  now.  she  cried. 

Here  —  tarry  a  moment,  I  '11  hide.  1  '11  hide. 

And,  Lovell,  be  sure  thou  art  first  to  trace 

The  clew  to  my  secret  hiding-place. 

Away  she  ran  —  '' 

Biddy.  Whurra!  There  she  goes.  What  doin's  and  actions!  .\nd  now 
she  is  hidin'  in  a  great  big  chest,  right  before  their  eyes,  too.  I'at,  you  don't 
think  we've  been  takin"   a  drop   too   much,   now,  do  you? 

Mrs.  yoliiis.     What  does  this  mean? 

Biddy.  Mane?  The  ether  room  is  fidl  of  thieves  and  crazy  folks  and 
ghosts.  There's  a  wounded  man  nann-d  Arthtir,  and  the  Lord  Mayor  with  a 
sttififed  cat,  and  we'll  all  be  arrested  and  tried  in  the  High  Court  of  Chatinccy, 
like  other  great  folks  for  more  than  a  hundred  years.  What  now?  There  comes 
a  tall  saplin',  and  he  is  after  sa)in',  "  Remember,  remember  the  5tli  of 
November."  Tish  —  be  still !  Do  I  hear  m>- own  ears?  Me  says.  Gunpowder 
Plot."  Tish — he  says,  "One  hogshead  and  thirty  barrels  of  powder,"  and  —  oh 
that  I  should  ever  live  to  see  the  sorry  night !  -  -  he  's  goin'  to  blow  up  the  Tarlia- 


m 


'  v"m 


82 


ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS  IN  THE   GREAT  NORTHWEST. 


mcnt.  It 's  conspirators  they  be,  dynamites,  Nihilists  from  Rapscalia  or  some 
foreign  parts.  We  '11  all  be  blown  up.  and  all  go  down,  down,  down  into  the 
river,  the  Hdtcl  i\c  Batteau  and  all.  Oh  that  I  should  ever  sec  the  loike  o'  this! 
There,  he  said  "Slow  match!"  Whurra!  Let  the  American  Madam  look 
and  see.  Here,  get  up  here,  and  see  a  sight  that  will  turn  your  eyes  to  ice 
and  your  heart  to  stone.     {Mrs.  jFo/ms  mounts  the  chair?) 

Mrs.  yolins.  This  is  very  extraordinary.  I  only  came  here  because 
Madame  is,  or  was,  a  particular  friend  of  mine.  She  's  gone  away.  I  don't  know 
what  I  shall  do.  We  ought  not  to  stay  in  this  dreadful  place.  It's  an  awful 
night  outside.  I've  heard  terrible  things  of  these  great  lodging-houses  — 
establishments  —  that  hang  over  the  water.  There  conies  a  little  fat  man  into 
the  room — looks  clever  —  they're  going  to  paint  him!  They're  putting  a 
(pause)  hump  and  a  pack  on  his  back,  and  a  fool's  cap  {pause),  and  furs  {pause'), 
and  bells  (pause),  and  a  wig  {pause),  and  a  long  false  nose.  Let  me  get  down. 
(^Steps  down.     Scenes  in  Room  No.  2,  acted  as  before.) 

Mr.  Trott.    What  is  your  theory,  Mrs.  Johns? 

Mrs.  yohus.     We  're  in  an  asviuni. 

Mr.  Trott.     Is  it  we  that  are  crazy,  or  they?     What  is  your  theory,  Bidd>? 

Biddy.  Me  theory?  Seems  as  though  'twas  a  wake;  I've  seen  double 
at  wakes.  Hut  I  tell  ye  they  be  conspirators;  I  heard  it  with  my  own  ears. 
Did  n't  he  say  "  gunpowder  plot,"  and  "thirty  barrels  of  powder,"  and  a  "slow 
match  "? 

Monsieur  la  Place.  I  tell  you.  Monsieur  the  Americanne,  they  are  thieves; 
it's  a  place  where  they  make  over  robbers,  I  know.  A  man  goes  in  there  an 
helephant  like  and  comes  out  a  mouse.  They  have  such  places  in  the  Seine; 
this  is  the  Hotel  de  Hatteau.     How  that  sounds,  —  H6tel  de  Hattcau  ! 

Mr.  Trott.  An  awful  name!  Why  did  I  come  here?  Oh,  I  know  now, 
my  pocket-book.  1  suppose  the  H6tel  de  Batteau  is  known  to  all  the  thieves 
in  Europe.     The  geese  and  the  foxes  have  met. 

Mrs.  Johns.     Known  t(j  all  the  thieves  of  luiropc. 

Biddy.  And  sure,  did  n't  you  say  that  Mi\dame  Hdtel  de  Batteau  was  your 
particular  friend? 

Mr.  Trott.    This  is  awful,  awful !     What  shall  we  do? 

Mrs.  JoJuis.  We  must  stand  by  each  other.  We  are  all  unprotected 
strangers. 

Mr.  Trott.    We  will  sell  ourselves  as  dear!}'  as  possible. 

Biddy.  Yes,  and  sure  we  will  all  die  together,  and  havf  one  jjiccc  in  the 
papers  about  us  all,  'orrid  murthcrs  it  will  be,  in  great  ietthers.  ilow  the 
people  will  stare  cX  it!     My  name  is  Biddy  McQueen. 


A 


THE  COMEDY  FOR    THE  HOIJDAYS. 


8| 


Monsieur  la  Place.  \o,  there  will  never  be  anything  about  it  in  the  papers, 
Madame  Biddy  Mcyuecii.     This  is  the  Hotel  de  Battean. 

Biddy.    And  what  is  that,  —  such  as  they  had  in  Paris  among  the  unsanc? 

Monsieur.  Don't  you  know?  The  hotel  of  the  boat,  of  the  water,  ulure  ail 
bodies  sink  into  the  water,  down,  down,  down,  and  nothing  more  is  ever  said 
or  heard,  except  —  listen  ! 

Mr.  Trott.     Gurc^le,  gurijle,  tjurt;lc! 

Mrs.  yolins.     Gurgle,  gurgle,  gurgle  ! 

Biddy  (^in  deep  tones).  Gurgle,  gurgle,  gurgle  !  All  the  saints  protect  us! 
Gurgle,  gurgle,  gurgle ! 

Mr.  Trott.  Let  us  arm  ourselves  and  all  stand  up  in  row  and  await  our 
fate,  and  we  will  sec  what  will  happen  before  morning.  1  will  st;md  here  so, 
and  hold  my  pistol  so.     {Attitude.') 

Monsieur.  Let  me  get  my  loaded  cane  {Goes  and.  ntunis  stealthily^,  and 
I  will  stand  beside  you,  so,  Iloratius  like,  I  will.     {Attitude.) 

Biddy.     I  feel  horratious  like,  but  I  have  n't  any  weapon  at  all. 

Mrs.  yo/ins.  I  will  get  my  umbrella  {Steals  away  timidly  and  returns)., 
and  I  will  stand  beside  Monsieur.     {Attitude.) 

Patrick.  There's  a  stick  of  wood  in  my  room;  I'll  get  it,  and  hold  it 
aloft,  Paddy  me  whack.     (Goes,  returns,  and  attitude.  ) 

Biddy.  y\nd  I'll  scream  "  Murlher !  "  and  "Police!"  1  know  how ;  lean 
out-scrame  a  whole  neighborhood. 

Mrs.  yohns.  I  once  read  a  story  called  "  The  Tavern  in  Spessart,"  and  the 
lodgers  —  the  occupiers  of  apartments  —  were  put  into  just  such  peril  as  v\e 
arc  in  now.  They  found  that  there  was  a  plan  to  rob  tliem.  .So  they  armed 
themselves,  and  to  keep  awake,  each  one  related  the  most  dreadfid  stor\-  one 
had  ever  hearil.  We  might  edify  one  another  .uul  cheer  us  up  in  this  way. 
Did  you  ever  hear  the  story  of  "  The  Living  I-lve  in  the  Portrait  "? 

Biddy.  Did  >'ou  ever  read  about  the  liveh-  doin's  of  Jack  Shepherd? 
We  've  got  that  book  in  Sligo. 

Patrick.     I  know  a  story  of  Captain  Kidd  that  would  keep  yc  all  awake. 

Monsiair.  Did  j'ou  ever  read  the  "  Mysteries  of  P;u-is"?  There  's  wo  need 
of  it.     This  is  the  last  night  I  will  ever  pass  in  London. 

Mr.  Trott.    True,  true;   the  last,  no  doubt.     Thi^  is  an  awful  situation. 

Monsieur.    Awful  it  is,  —  de  HAtel  de  l^>attcau. 

Mrs.  yohns  {shaking \.     Very  awful,  awful! 

Patrick  (shutting-  his  eyes).  Extramei\-  awful  it  is.  Hear  the  water  th(!re. 
All  tb?  saints  help  us  ! 

Buiuy  (in  deep  voice,  and  shaking).      Dcm't   say  another  word,   or   I   will 


m 


W. 


I* 


^. 


\/'">< 


84 


ZIGZAG   JOURi\EYS  J\   THE  GREAl    XORIUWEST. 


scramc.  This  is  what  they  would  call  a  predicament  in  auld  Sligo.  It  is  never 
a  such  will  I  [^et  into  again  ! 

Monsieur.     Never.     This  is  the  Motel  ilc  Hattt  ;ui. 

(/f  strain  of  music  on  the  violin  is  luard  in  tiic  entries?) 

Monsieur.  'Ihat  is  Hans  Listnian ;  he  has  returncil  from  the  concert  re- 
hearsal.    {In  a  loud  zv/iisper.)     Mans,  Mans,  cume  here.      I  rayedy  ! 

Violin.    {Tune  "  Silent  Nigltt,"  by  Haydn. ) 

Biddy.  Tish,  tish,  you  German  boy;  this  is  no  hour  tor  rtddlin'.  Come  in, 
yc  saplin'  of  the  wind,  and  stand  there.     Ye '11  be  wanted  before  morning. 

Hans.    Wat  ish  this  ? 

(^All point  '0  the  transom  and  assume  attitudes  of  horror.) 

Mr.  Trott .     Tragedy. 

Monsieur.    A  robbers'  den. 

Biddy.    An'  sure  it 's  a  conspe-racy. 

Patrick.    An'  piracy  it  is.         . 

Mrs.  yohns.    There  are  some  insane  people  in  there.      They  are  dangerous. 

honi.     But  wat,  I  say,  does  ish  all  mean?     Ish  you  craz\? 

Biddy.  Arra,  boy,  put  awa\-  your  fiddle  now,  an'  you  '11  never  need  it  again. 
Ye  "il  never  see  any  more  Zarniony  over  the  Rhiut:,  ye  won't,  ihis  is  the 
Hdtel  de  Batteau. 


P.VRT    II. 

Scene  IT.  While  the  above  dialogue  t^oes  on  in  Room  No.  i,  the  coy  turner  in  Room  No.  ^ 
arranges  a  nno  of  historical  and  allegorical  tableaux.  They  are  the  giants  Gog  ami 
Magog  of  the  Guildhall ;  King  .Arthur  -loounded  at  .47<allon  and  wept  by  women: 
Whittington  ami  his  cat ;  Guy  Fawkes  ;  the  Waits:  Santa  Clans ;  and  the  Angel  <f 
Ctiristmas.  The  Waits  are  boy  can)/  singers.  The  Guy  Fa7vkes  should  he  a  frightful 
figure,  tall  and  leerinir,  and  stuck  full  of  weapons  and  burglars'  imf>lemcnts. 

Cosiumcr.  It  is  now  quarter  to  ten  o'clock,  and  Lucy  Blessington  said  that 
she  and  the  Rector  would  call  before  ten  on  her  way  from  the  Charity  Lodge-. 
Hark  I  that  is  her  carriage.  The  tableau.v  are  all  ready  for  ins{)ection,  and 
I  Hope  she  will  like  them;  she  is  so  goful  as  to  arrange  all  this  surprise 
for  the  poor  children,  and  come  to  this  out-of-tlu-way  street  to  see  the  re- 
hearsal. She  is  coming  on  the  stairs  Ciog  and  Magog,  get  into  position  ; 
and  wounded  King  Arthur,  and  Whittin^Jton  and  his  cat.  and  (lincvra  and  Guy 
I\iwkes,  and  the  Waits,  and  Santa  Ci.  as,  and  the  .\ngcl  of  Christmas.  —  all. 
There,  I  will  turn  a  soft  red  light  on  you  now.  through  the  glass  reflector; 
ready ! 


^'^M 


THE  COMEDY  FOR   THE  HOLIDAYS. 


87 


Lady  Blissington.  I  hope  I  find  Monsieur  the  Costiimer  well  to-night. 
Oh,  how  lovely  !  Don't  you  think  so,  Rector  Honney?  Charniing!  Gog  and 
Magog,  the  old  London  giants,  —  how  they  will  please  the  little  orphans  to- 
morrow night!  I  will  tell  them  the  story ;  why,  the  anticipation  of  it  makes 
me  happy  now.  I  low  I  do  love  Charity  Lodge !  All  places  are  ])leasant 
where  one  makes  others  happy.  Yes,  Costumer,  Gog  and  Magog  are  just  as 
I  would  have  them  ;  and  the  wounded  Arthur  wept  by  the  wives  of  knights. 
I  must  get  you.  Rector,  to  relate  to  tlie  children  one  of  the  Arthurean  romances, 
—  the  story  of  the  Holy  Grail,  perhaps.  VVhittington?  Ah,  yes,  I  see.  Rector 
lionney,  you  must  also  tell  the  story  of  Whittington  and  his  cat,  and  1  will  pre- 
tend to  punish  wicked  Guy  Fawkes  with  a  whip.  An  excellent  Guy  Kawkes; 
fantastic!  I  know  it  will  please  them  so  much!  And  Ginevra!  here  is  the 
beautiful  bride  about  to  hide  in  the  old  oak  chest.  I  will  read  Rogers's  poem 
to-morrow  night.  I  will  hear  the  Waits  sing  soon.  The  Santa  Claus  is  very 
good,  and  the  Angel  of  Christmas  beautiful.  I  congratulate  you,  Costumer; 
you  have  provided  an  excellent  treat  for  the  Charity  School,  —  excellent.  I 
am  more  than  satisfied  with  your  work;  and  you  will  be  at  the  chapel  early  to- 
, morrow  night,  and  I  know  that  you  will  enter  into  the  spirit  of  the  entertainment, 
and  help  make  us  all  very  happy. 

Rector.  Your  plans  all  please  me  very  much,  Lady  Blessington.  They  are 
such  as  lead  others  to  follow  their  best  selves.  I  have  a  kind  of  theory.  Lady 
lilessington,  that  the  world  would  be  much  better  if  people  followed  their 
better  hearts.  I  have  some  plans  of  sympathetic  work  for  the  holidays,  and 
I  would  carry  them  out  if  I  only  had  the  means.  Lady  Blessington. 

Lady  Blessitiij^toti.     And  what  are  they,  Father  Bonney? 

Rector.  I  would  like  to  give  each  poor  family  in  the  parish  a  little  home 
library  for  the  children,  —  a  little  library  of  books  that  inspire  to  high  ambi- 
tions. I  have  a  theory,  Lady  Blessington,  that  character  is  formed  largely  by 
right  models  in  youth,  and  the  right  books  furnish  the  best  models.  What  do 
you  think  of  my  plan,  Lady  Blessington? 

Lady  Blcssiuirton.  Oh,  excellent,  excellent !  Do  it  by  all  means.  Your  plan 
is  after  my  own  heart. 

Rector.     But  how  shall  we  secure  the  means,  Lady  Blessington? 

Lady  Blcssitigton.  Oh,  Father  Bonney,  I  know  that  you  will  let  me  pay  for 
that.     What  were  your  further  thous^hts?     "  The  valleys  are  being  e.xalted." 

Rector.  Rents ;  there  are  so  many  people  who  are  troubled  about  their 
rents.  They  would  have  a  happier  Christmas  with  their  families  if  their  rents 
were   paid.     Don't  you  think  so,  Lady  Blessington? 

Lady  Blessiiii:;ton.     Such  thoughts  as  these  ought  to  be   turned  into  gold. 


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as  the  cakes  in  the  basket  of  Hungary's  marj^ravine  were  chanj^cd  into  roses. 
I  hope  you  will  let  me  pay  for  that  I  am  sure  you  will  allow  me  this  happi- 
ness.    It  would  so  prepare  the  way  for  Christmas. 

Rector.  "The  crooked  is  beiu^f  made  straight."  And  shoes,  —  I  think  that 
there  is  a  threat  blessing  in  shoes.  Don't  you  think  so,  Lady  lilcssington? 
Good  shoes  are  health,  and  there  are  many  people  in  the  parish  in  poor  shoes. 
'I'hey  all  ought  to  have  good  shoes  for  Christmas. 

Lady  Blcssiugton.  :jurely,  surely,  they  ought.  Now,  I  hope  that  you  will 
be  willing  to  let  me  pay  for  those. 

Rector.  "  And  the  rough  places  plain."  Now,  pardon  me,  good  lady,  if  I 
have  one  thought  more.  It  always  makes  a  mother's  heart  happy  to  have  the 
baby  remembered  at  Christmas.  And  a  mother's  heart  is  a  sacred  thing. 
Lady  Blcssington.  I  have  no  doubt  that  the  Virgin  herself  was  glnd  to  hear 
the  tinkling  of  the  camel-bells  of  the  Magi.  I  would  like  to  have  all  the 
babies  that  have  come  to  live  in  the  parish  this  year  have  a  little  gift,  in 
remembrance  of  the  gold  and  myrrh  and  frankincense  of  life.  I  would  send 
them  all  a  few  shillings  to  be  spent  by  their  mothers.  It  would  prepare  their 
mother's  hearts  for  the  better  enjoyment  of  the  festival.  Don't  you  think  so, 
I,,ady  Blessington  ? 

Lady  Blessuigton.  Now,  I  like  that,  and  I  hope  you  will  let  me  bless 
myself  by  doing  that.  It  is  so  good  to  have  a  rector  that  sees  these  things. 
But  sympathy  is  the  real  gold  of  charity.  If  you  think  my  thought  a  good  one, 
I  will  go  and  carry  the  shillings  to  the  mothers  myself,  and  so  give  my  heart 
with  them.  I  have  been  given  time,  and  I  ought  to  turn  it  into  good.  I  shall 
need  sympathy  myself  some  day.  This  is  a  beautiful,  beautiful  world,  but  the 
shadow  falls  sometimes  on  us  all,  and  we  need  sympathy  then. 

Rector.  And  I  know  of  a  certain  lady  who  ought  to  be  remembered  in  ivy, 
holly,  and  mistletoe. 

All  present.    And  so  do  we. 

Lady  BlcsHiigton.    Be  quiet,  Pygmalions.     Statues  ought  not  to  speak. 

Rector.  I  would  have  our  good  people  fill  her  windows  with  evergreens,  and 
her  heart  with  happiness  and  gratitude. 

Guy  Fatvkes  (^taking  out  /lis  pocket-book,  comically).  And  let  me  pay 
for  that.  ;. 

Costnnier.  I  will  now  turn  on  the  golden  light  with  another  reflector,  and 
then  you  shall  hear  the  little  Waits  sing.  "  " 

{TJiree  boys,  carollers,  shig  the  old  English  carol  ^ 

"  {]od  rest  you,  merry  frentlemen, 
Let  nothing  you  dismay  ; 


THE  COMEDY  FOR   THE  HOLIDAYS.  89 

For  Jlsus  Christ,  our  Saviour. 
Was  Uorii  on  Ciiristmas  clay. 
To  save  us  all  from  Satan's  power, 
Wlien  we  had  <;one  astray. 

O  tidings,  O  tidings  of  joy  for  all  astray, 

For  Jesus  Christ,  the  Saviour, 

Was  born  on  Christmas  day." 

Room  No.  i. 
Biddy.  Do  you  hear  that,  —  "God  rest  you,  merry  gentlemen"?  Let  me 
look  through  the  transom  once  more  now.  {Mounts  the  chair.)  The  saints 
above  !  If  tliere  ain't  an  angel  come  down  from  the  heavins,  and  a  mij.;lit\- 
fi)ine  lady,  and  a  priest.  Now  I  am  beat,  sure.  What  do  you  think  now,  eh? 
Let  me  step  down;  what  is  your  theory  now?  {Biddy  step.';  into  the  room 
again.) 

Room  No.  2. 

First  Wait.    I  just  saw  a  face  at  the  transom. 

Second  Wait.    And  L     It  was  watching  us. 

Third  Wait.     I  saw  it  there  before  the  lady  came. 

Costnnier.  It  i.i  not  good  breeding  to  look  into  people's  rooms  ;  but,  Guy 
Fawkes,  suppose  you  see  if  all  is  right  in  the  other  room.  Here,  get  up  in  a 
chair.     {Obeys.) 

Guy  Fazvkes.  There  's  a  mob  there,  —  thieves,  conspirators  (women  among 
them),  dynamites,  all  around,  prepared  to  attack  us.  The  leader  has  a  pistol. 
Oh,  what  shall  we  do? 

Cog  {jumping  down  from  his  barrel).  Let  me  look.  'T  is  so ;  this  is  the 
H6tel  dc  Batteau. 

Magog.    Let  me  look.     'T  is  so;   this  is  the  H6tel  de  Batteau. 

Lady  Blcssington.  I  hope  that  name  bodes  no  evil.  It  has  a  tnysterious 
sound. 

Guy  Faivkcs.    A  very  ominous  sound. 

Costumer.     I   assure  you   all  that  this  is  a  most  respectable  lodging-place 
Guy  I'\awkes,  ask  the  people  in  the  other  apartment  who  they  are. 

Guy  Fazvkes  {through  the  transom).     Good  people,  who  are  you? 

Biddy.  We  Ve  found  you  out,  and  we  're  all  ready  for  you,  diat  we  be. 
We  '11  have  }'ou  all  arristed,  we  will.  Who  are  you  ?  We  know  )'o;i,  but  don't 
you  dare,  or  I'll  holler. 

Guy  Fazvkes.  We  are  rehearsing  for  Christmas,  arranging  our  costumes  and 
tableaux  for  the  charity  festival. 

Mr.  Trott.    Beg  pardon,  beg  pardon.     We  thought  you  were  —  were  —  dan- 


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gcious  people.  We  are  lodgers;  we  armed  ourselves  for  protection.  Beg 
pardon,  beg  pardon. 

Guy  Finvkcs  (^to  the  Rcctor~).  These  people  are  lodgers;  they  thought  we 
were  dangerous  people,  and  have  armed  themselves  through  fear. 

Rector  Bouncy.  Very  funny,  very  funny.  Tell  them  we  are  friends.  Ask 
tliem  to  come  in  and  meet  Lady  Blessington,  and  hear  the  Waits  sing.  Unlock 
the  door.      {The  door  is  opened  by  Guy  Faivkes.) 

Mr.  Troit.     Beg  pardon  —  we  thought  you  were  — 

Giiy  Faivkcs.    Beg  pardon  —  we  thought  you  were  — 

Monsieur  la  Place.    Beg  pardon  —  I  thought  you  were  — 

Gog  and  Magog.     Beg  pardon,  we  thought  you  were  — 

Lady  Blessington.     I  am  quite  sure  that  you  are  all  honest  people. 

Biddy.  Honest,  is  it?  I'm  quite  sure  I  am  an  honest  woman,  and  I 
know    Pat    is. 

Mrs.  Johns.  And  Madame,  my  particular  friend,  keeps  this  lodging  — 
this  establishment.  That's  why  I  came  here  among  these  tradespeople.  I  'm 
an  American  lady. 

Lady  Blessington.  Well,  well,  the  coming  of  Christmas  ought  to  make  us 
all  very  equal  and  friendly,  1  'm  sure.  {To  Costunier.)  Kindly  arrange  the 
tableaux,  and  turn  on  the  white  lights,  and  we  will  have  one  more  carol.  My 
good  woman,  what  shall  it  be?     {To  Biddy.) 

Biddy.  The  Irish  carol,  sure.  There  never  was  any  carol  like  that. 
Don't  you  know,  —  the  three  ships  that  sailed  right  into  Bethlehem  on 
Christmas  day  in  the  mornin'.     I  'li  just  sing  it  to  you  myself.     {Bridgcf  stngs.) 

'■  I  saw  three  ships  come  sailing  in 
On  Christmas  day,  on  Christmas  day ; 
I  saw  three  ships  come  sailing  in 
On  Christmas  day  in  tlie  morning." 

Lady  Blessington.  This  is  very  pleasing, —  don't  you  think  so.  Rector?  — 
to  meet  people  of  so  many  different  nationalities  in  the  Hotel  de  Bntteau, — 
French,  German,  Irish,  American,  our  brothers  and  friends  of  all  the  world. 
The  true  Christmas  spirit  is  in  it. 

Biddy.  Och,  and  so  it  is.  I'm  always  glad  to  mate  me  friends  any- 
where. I  'm  not  particular,  me  and  Pat  ain't,  now;  we've  seen  too  much  of  the 
world. 

Mt's.  yohns.  T  knew  !  should  meet  excellent  people  here;  but  to  find  you 
here.  Lady  Blessington,  is  an  unexpected  pleasure.  This  is  a  level}'  estab- 
lishment, with  grand  old  Father  Thames  nmning  under  it. 


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Biddy.  An'  who  is  he  runnin'  under  it  ?  Madame  Grinders,  the  fish- 
market  woman  it  is  that  runs  this  two-penny  lodging-house.  Never  mind, 
we  're  all  on  an  equal  here.      It 's  a  foine  time  we  '11  all  be  havin'. 

Mr.  Trott.  1  knew  that  you  were  all  of  the  better  class  of  people,  with 
artistic  tastes,  though  I  did  not  quite  understand  your  movements  at  first. 

Monsieur.  Yes,  oui,  I  was  sure  you  were  all  superior  people,  or  you 
would  n't  have  been  here,  at  the  H6tel  de  Batteau. 

Lady  Blessington.  It  is  the  mission  of  music  to  create  harmony,  and  of 
poetry  to  express  the  soul  of  things  ;  don't  you  think  so,  Rector?  We  have 
had  the  old  Irish  carol;  perhaps  our  friend  here.  Monsieur,  will  give  us  the 
old  French  carol,  "  The  First  Noel."  You  all  seem  like  one  family  here,  in  the 
Hotel  de  Batteau. 

"  The  first  Noel,  the  angel  did  say, 
Was  to  certain  poor  shepherds  of  old,  as  they  lay 
In  the  fields  where  they  were  keeping  their  sheep, 
On  a  cold  winter's  night  that  was  so  deep. 

Noel,  Noiil,  Noel, 

Born  is  the  King  q^  Israel." 

(^Let  the  Waits  repeat  tJie  chorus  pianissimo,  to  the  accompaniment  of  Hans' s 
violin^) 

Lady  Blessington.  I  think  that  one  of  the  most  beautiful  Christmas  carols 
in  the  world  is  Haydn's  "Silent  Night."  I  thought  I  heard  a  strain  of  it 
a  little  while  ago  on  the  violin.  Will  not  our  German  friend  here  give  it 
to  us?     Perhaps  the  Waits  will  sing  it  to  the  violin. 

(  Waits  sing  to  the  violin,  very  softly^ 

"  Silent  night !  holy  night  ! 
All  is  calm,  all  is  bright 
Round  yon  virgin  mother  and  Child  I 
Holy  Infant,  so  tender  and  mild, 
Sleep  in  licavenly  iDcace, 
Sleep  in  heavenly  peace." 

Mr.  Trott.  Well,  well,  I  declare,  if  everybody  onl\-  was  like  Lady  Bless- 
ington, everybody  would  be  good  to  everybody,  and  Heaven  would  be  good 
to  everybody,  and  then  — 

Costumer.    Everybody  would  have  a  merry  Christmas  inside  and  out  — 

Mr.  Trott.    Of  the  Hotel  de  Batteau. 

I^ady  Blessington.  Thank  you,  gentlemen.  I  wish  I  were  more  worthy 
of  your  kind  compliments.     Now  we  must   surely  have  one  more  carol,  and 


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ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS  IN  THE  GREAT  NORTHWEST. 


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the   sentiment    of  it,  I  am  sure,  will  meet   the  spirit  of  this    most  delightful 
occasion. 

Biddy.    Most  delightful  occasion  {^boiving). 

Lady  Bh'ssijii^toii.  You  seem  to  have  been  somewhat  alarmed,  some  of 
you,  when  you  first  came  here.  The  fine  old  English  carol,  "  God  rest  you, 
merry  gentlemen,"  contains  a  sentiment  which  we  shall  all  share  on  parting. 
What  is  the  night?  Let  me  look  out  of  the  window.  Oh,  I  see  something  very, 
very  beautiful!  I  will  lift  the  curtain,  and  show  it  to  you  at  the  end  of  \our 
song.  Let  us  all  sing,  "  God  rest  you,  merry  gentlemen."  One  of  the  Waits 
.will  lead,  and  we  will  be  the  chorus. 

'ySoiig — one  verse.  D tiring  the  chorus  Lady  Blessingion  lifts  the  curtain 
and  reveals  a.  star,  while  Hans  plays  ''Silent  Night"  very  softly  on  the 
violin.') 

Lady  Blcssington.  It  is  all  clear  again ;  the  stars  have  come  back.  May 
you  all  have  a  quiet  and  happy  night,  and  all  the  world  be  blessed  inside 
and  outside  of — 

All.    The  Hotel  de  Battcau. 

(^Star — magnesium  wire  touched  with  flame  —  lozv  light,  and  tableaux  If 
the  zvindow  be  artificial,  the  magnesium  wire  star  may  be  bjcrncd  inside  of 
the  zvindoiv  under  a  very  low  and  diminishing  light.) 

The  dialogue,  tableau.v,  and  pantomimes  of  the  medley  called  the 
"  Hotel  de  Battcau  "  were  well  studied  and  prepared  for  exhibition, 
and  the  entertainment  attracted  a  full  audience,  who  asked  to  see 
it  again.  There  was  a  novelty  about  it  that  w-as  pleasing,  and 
some  of  the  parts  were  admirably  taken  and  very  humorously 
presented.  The  tw^o  exhibitions  secured  for  Arthur  Burns  more 
than  the  ^40  needed  for  emigration.  The  boys  entered  into  the 
business  part  of  the  matter,  such  as  the  sale  of  the  tickets,  with 
great  enthusiasm,  and  the  delight  of  the  audience  at  the  final 
tableaux  made  the  exhibition  an  episode  of  joyous  life  long  to  be 
remembered. 

The  entertainment  was  closed  by  an  impromptu  patriotic  expres- 
sion. The  audience  sans:,  "  dod  save  the  Oueen  !  "  and  three  cheers 
were  given  for  British  Columbia,  three  for  Mr.  Lette,  and  three  for 
Arthur  Burns,  the  young  emigrant. 


THE   COMEDY  FOR   THE  HOUDAVS. 


95 


Aunt  Mar  continued  her  investigations  in  regard  to  the  supposed 
visit  of  John  Hampden  to  America  in  1622-23.  ^^^  found  a  record 
of  one  Phineas  Pratt,  who  sailed  from  England  in  the  "  Sparrow," 
in  1622.  He  was  one  of  Weston's  colon),  and  he  left  a  "  Narrative  " 
of  his  adventures.  News  came  to  Weston's  Colony  that  Plymouth 
was  about  to  be  attacked  by  the    Indians. 

"  I  said,"  writes  Pratt,  "  that  if  the  men  of  Plymouth  were  not 
informed  of  this  plot,  they  and   we  would  all  be  dead  men." 

Who  should  go  and  give  them  warning.'' 

No  one  would  volunteer  to  set  out  on  such  a  perilous  expedition 
through  the  woods,  filled,  it  might  be,  with  lurking  enemies. 

At  last  Pratt  resolved  to  go  himself,  when  the  following  incident 
occurred.  We  quote  from  Pratt's  own  narrative.  T  le  spelling  of 
Hamdin  was  to  have  been  expected  if  indeed  the  person  he  met  were 
the  English  patriot :  — 

"  I  came  that  part  .  .  .  Pliniouth  Bay  vvlicr  ther  is  a  town  of  later  time 
.  .  .  Duxbery.  Then  passing  by  the  water  on  my  left  hand  .  .  .  came  to 
a  brock  &  ther  was  a  path.  Having  but  a  short  time  to  consider  .  .  .  ffearing 
to  goe  beyond  the  plantation,  I  kept  running  in  the  patu  ;  then  passing  through 
James  Ryuer,  I  said  in  my  thoughts,  now  am  I  as  a  deare  chased  .  .  .  the 
wolfs.  If  I  perish  what  will  be  the  condish  ...  of  distressed  Englishmen. 
Then  finding  a  peec  of  a  ...  I  took  it  up  &  caried  it  in  my  hand.  Then 
finding  a  ...  of  a  Jurkin,  I  caried  them  under  my  arnie.  Then  said  I  in  my 
.  .  .  God  hath  given  me  these  two  tookens  for  my  comfort;  yt  now  he  will 
give  mc  my  live  for  a  pray.  Then  running  down  a  hill  J  ...  an  l-'.nglish 
man  coming  in  the  path  before  me.  Then  I  sat  down  on  a  tree  &  rising  up 
to  salute  him  said,  '  Mr.  Hamdin,  T  am  Glad  to  see  you  alive.'  He  said,  '  I 
am  Glad  &  full  of  wonder  to  see  you  ahve :  lett  us  sitt  downe,  I  see  you  are 
weary.'  I  said,  '  Let  .  .  .  eatc  some  parched  corne.'  Then  he  said,  '  I  know 
the  cans  .  .  .  come.  Masasoit  hath  sent  word  to  the  Governor  to  let  him 
{         )  yt  Abcrdikees  &  his  confederates  have  contrived  a  plot,'  etc.,  etc." 

Was  this  Mr.  Hamdin,  John  Hampden  the  patriot? 
Aunt    Mar   could   not  be  sure,   though    it  seemed  probable.     In 
1 63 1,  John   Hampden  the  patriot,  with  Lords  Say  and   Brooke,  Pym, 


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ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS  IN  THE  GREAT  NORTHWEST. 


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and  others,  purchased  a  large  tract  of  land  on  the  Narragansett 
River  within  the  limits  of  tiie  present  State  of  Connecticut.  Did 
Hampden  see  this  country  across  the  bay  when  he  visited  Alassasoit 
at  Warren? 

Aunt  Mar  found  in  the  correspondence  of  Sir  John  Eliot  many 
things  that  would  make  it  probable  that  Hampden  had  secretly  visited 
America,  but  the  proof  was  not  direct  and  positive.  The  study  of 
the  lives  of  Eliot,  Pym,  and  Cromwell  occupied  the  winter  evenings 
of  the  Hampdens  in  London,  and  one  of  the  noblest  biographical 
studies  it  was.  If  one  would  know  the  really  great  characters  of 
England,  let  him  read  the  lives  of  the  patriots  and  pioneers  at  the 
perio'^.  of  the  Commonwealth  and  Charles  H., —  Hampden,  Eliot,  Pym, 
Milton,  Williams,  Vane,  Penn,  Lord  Baltimore. 

Aunt  Mar  still  believed  that  more  positive  evidence  of  the  great 
historic  episode  of  the  visit  of  John  Hampden  to  America,  and  his 
interview  with  the  great  chief   Massasoit,  would  be  found. 

"  I  would  not  wonder,"  she  said,  on  giving  up  her  studies  in 
London,  "if  we  found  all  we  have  been  looking  for  some  day  right 
at  home.  Now,  remember  what  I  say;  I  have  a  presentiment  that  it 
will  be  so." 

Arthur  Burns  often  called  on  the  Hampdens.  •  He  gave  all  his 
leisure  time  to  the  study  of  America,  reading  the  great  books  on  the 
Northwest,  such  as  Lord  Ravenswood's  "  Great  Divide,"  Magoun's 
"  Manitoba,"  "  The  History  of  the  Hudson  Bay  Company,"  the 
journals  of  Vancouver,  magazine  articles  on  Lord  Selkirk,  and  articles 
on  Victoria,  B.  C.  He  found  but  little  fiction  on  the  subject,  and 
no  poetry  at  all,  although  the  Northwestern  Empire  would  seem  to 
be  the  most  poetic  of  all  new  lands,  and  to  invite  the  highest  inspira- 
tions of  the  novelist,  poet,  artist,  and  musician.  The  greater  literature 
and  art  of  America  are  likely  to  be  associated  with  this  new  country. 
The  Augustine  age  of  America  is  yet  to  come. 


I 


in 


CHAPTER   V. 


1-    IM 


WHY   THE    MONTANA   GIRL   WAS    NOT   SURPRISED. 

UNT  MAR  went  to  Switzerland  in  the  spring.  The  party 
consisted  of  Aunt  Mar,  Charles  Hampden  and  Helen 
Hampden,  and  a  young  lady  named  Helena  Earl, 
from  Montana.  Their  course  was  from  London  to 
Basle  by  swift  train,  and  from  Basle  to  Lucerne. 
They  arrived  at  Lucerne  early  one  spring  evening.  The  glaciers 
were  gleaming  like  palaces  in  the  sky  ;  Mount  Pilatus  was  dark  in 
twilight  shadow,  and  the  lake  lay  in  deep  purple  under  a  sky  ceru- 
lean and  amber,  pink  flowered  and  gold  walled.  l^he  sight  of  a 
glacier  excited  Aunt  Mar;  it  filled  Charles  and  Helen  with  wonder 
and  delight;  but  it  did  not  seem  greatly  to  interest  the  Montana 
girl. 

"  This  is  the  most  beautiful  place  on  earth,"  said  Aunt  Mar  to 
Helena. 

The  Montana  girl  looked  greatly  surprised,  but  merely  said,  "  Is 
it.^"  ' 

"  Yes,"  said  Aunt  Mar.     "  So  travellers  and  guide-books  say.     You 
certainly  never  before  dreamed  of  a  scene  as  beautiful  as  this." 
The  Montana  girl  was  politely  silent. 

"  Look  at  Pilatus,"  said  Aunt  Mar.  "  The  legend  is  that  Pontius 
Pilate  came  a  wanderer  to  that  mountain  and  committed  suicide  there 
in  one  of  the  lakes  of  the  sky.  His  ghost  arises  and  summons  the 
storms.     They  used  to  ring  the  bells  to  appease  him.     Near  us  are 


;:)'  I 


m 

'  ■•i 

Mn 

'■•'•"'^^mmiuu, 


98 


Z/G/iAG  JOl/JiAEys  IN   THE   GRKAT  NORTHWEST, 


the  Lakes  of  Uri,  and  the  scene  of  the  William  Tell  legend.  Did 
you  ever  see  a  forested  mountain  as  sublime  as  Mount   Pilatus  ? " 

"  Yes,"  said  the  Montana  girl,  "  I  think  I  have." 

"Where?" 

"  In  Montana,  British  Columbia,  and  Washington." 

"  Mr.  Lette  used  to  speak  of  the  mountain  scenery  there  as  being 
very  grand,  and  give  cold  statistics,  but  I  supposed  he  spoke  from 
the  enthusiasm  of  an  explorer.  Switzerland,  I  think,  comprises  some 
fifteen  thousand  square  miles  of  this  beautiful  scenery,  and  these 
ranges  are   some    two    hundred    miles    long.     How    long   are   your 


ranges  .-* 


"  I  think  some  two  or  three  thousand  from  Mount  St.  Elias  to  Popo- 
catepetl." The  Montana  girl  spoke  rather  indifferently,  as  though 
a  thousand  miles  of  mountains  were  not  a  matter  to  be  exact  about 
where  the  territory  was  so  large. 

"  Yf.u  live  in  a  valley  in  Montana?"  - 

"Yes." 

"  How  large  is  it  ?  " 

"  I  thmk  it  has  an  area  of  some  seventy  thousand  square  miles. 
It  has  not  been  very  well  surveyed." 

"  Seventy  thousand  miles !  Four  times  as  large  as  all  Switzerland, 
as  Mr.  Lette  said.  Your  scenery  may  be  more  extensive  and  loftier 
than  this,  but  it  cannot  have  such  beauty.  This  is  the  most  beautiful 
place  in  all  the  world." 

"  But  why  ?  The  long  Northern  sunsets  on  the  peaks  overlooking 
the  Puget  Sound  are  as  brilliant  as  this,  and  the  twilights,  which  last 
late  into  the  hours  that  we  call  night,  or  past  ten  o'clock,  are  as  soft, 
and  have  as  spiritual  a  tone  of  color.  I  would  not  like  to  seem  boastful 
of  my  own  country,  but  all  the  splendor  of  the  sunset  around  us  does 
not  surpass  the  beauties  of  an  early  evening  in  the  Selkirks,  or  at  Banff, 
or  near  Mount  Tacoma  or  Shasta.  The  east  side  of  our  mountains 
may  lack  a  certain  spirituality  of  sky  tone,  but  the  evening  skies  of 


I     (I 


\m 


IN   THK   CANADIAN    WOODS. 


//7/r  THE  MOATAAA    GIRL    WAS  NOT  SURrklSED. 


lOI 


Piiget  Sound  seem    to    me    as   beautiful   as  this.      1    hope   1  am   not 
prejudiced.     This  is  a  beautiful  scene." 

After    supper    the    party    went    out    and    sat    down    by    the    lake. 
Helena  stepped   into  the   old  church    for  a  time   to  hear    the    monk 

p  1  a  \    "  I'  h  e 
Organ     Tem- 
pest    of     Lu- 
cerne." When 
she     returned 
to  the  Hamjj- 
dens,  the  sun- 
set    fires      in 
the      ulaciers 
seemed  dying, 
bells  were  ringing   in  the  distance, 
and  lights  were  glinmiering  on  the 
Righi.     Aunt    Mar    had    been   pur- 
chasing some  minerals  from  a  peas- 
ant child,  and  began  at  once  to  talk 
with  Helena  on  the  chamois,  the 
mountain  goats,  and  the  flowers 
of  the  Aljjs. 

The   quicksilver  mines  of 
the  Alps  did  not  seem  at  all 
remarkable    to    the    Montana 
girl,  nor  would   Golconda  itself 
have   surprised   her.     As  for  Al- 
pine  flocks  and   pastures,  had   not 
her  father  ten  thousand  sheep  and 
cattle.?     It    was    the  chamois    that 
Aunt  Mar  was  most  pleased  to  describe,  —  its  adventurous  habits  and 
poetic  mountain  ways. 


A   HERD   OF  MOUNTAIN  SHEEP. 


'■i''-M\ 


' 

^Hi 

kii^^^U 

^  {H 

' 

1  nm 

'         il  jinlli' 

« 

■       \ 

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Hi 

u 


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rspr-r 


>»«Jw!3E')W!W^'J'  '."■*<r»r«'ir->K'  '^  ,~TKrrKr_.,^r«my 


102 


ZIG/^AG  JOURNEYS  IN  THE   GREAT  NORTHWEST. 


"  It  reminds  me  of  the  Big  Horns,"  said  tiie  Montana  girl, 

"  The  Big  Horns  !     What  are  they  ?  " 

"  The  Rocky  Mountain  sheep." 

"  I  suppose  that  they  are  as  big  as  elephants,  and  fly  through  the 
air,  bodies  and  all,"  said  Aunt  Mar,  losing  all  patience  at  having  the 
wings  of  her  fancy  clipped  at  all  points  by  the  Montana  girl.  "  But  you 
wait  until  we  i^et  to  Berne,  and  we  shall  see  some  famous  animals." 

"  Wnat,  may  I  ask?"  ■ 

"  Bears." 

"  I  have  seen  some  bears,  —  grizzlies." 

"  Yes,  but  you  have  never  seen  those  of  Berne.  They  are  historic 
bears." 

"  No,  but  I  have  seen  some  unhistoric  bears." 
The  Montana  girl  was  very  weary,  and  retired  early,  leaving  the 
Hampdens  overwiielmed  with  all  the  mingling  splendors  of  sky, 
glacier,  and  lake.  There  was  a  poem  on  the  scene  that  Helena  had 
found  in  an  American  paper  or  magazine,  and  which  she  repeated  to 
Aunt  Mar.  The  dark  night  fell ;  stars  mingled  their  silver  fires  in 
the  ice  palaces,  and  Mount  Pilalus  grew  black  and  the  Righi  a 
shadow.  At  Chamouni  the  Montana  girl  entered  into  the  spirit  of 
beauty  and  seemed  at  home.  Stupendous  Mont  Blanc  thrilled  her 
like  the  rest  of  the  party ;  but  at  Berne  her  want  of  interest  again 
provoked   Aunt   Mar. 

They  went  to  the  historic  bear-pits.  Berne  was  founded  vi^here 
Berthold  had  slain  a  bear,  so  the  Bernese  keep  a  bear-pit  in  memory 
of  the  exploit  of  the  hero. 

"  Poor  innocent  creatures!"  said  the  Montana  girl.  "  Tiiey  remind 
mo  of  our  bears  of  the  blueberry-bushes." 

'•  These  are  historic  bears,"  said  Aunt  Mar,  "  as  I  told  you.  Did 
you  ever  see  any  as  noble  .'' " 

"Why  —  yes.  Did  you  ever  see  a  grizzly  bear  of  the  Rocky 
Mountains  ?  "  ■*  , 


i'! 


iV//y  THE  MONTANA    GIRL    WAS  NOT  SUNPR/SED. 


lO' 


"  No,  I  never  did." 

"  It  is  well  you  have  not ;  you  can  enjoy  this  exhibition  the 
better  for  it. 

'  Where  ignorance  is  bliss,  "t  is  folly  to  be  wise.'  " 

This  was  too  severe  a  reflection  to  go  unrebuked.  "  You  repeat 
the  same  stories  as  Mr.  Lette,  the  Canadian  explorer,"  said  Aunt 
Mar.  "  I  did  think  that  our  Yankee  nation  exceeded  all  others  for 
boastfulness,  but  they  are  of  small  account  beside  a  Rocky  Moun- 
tain Canadian  explorer  or  a  Montana  girl." 

"  I  beg  your  pardon.  I  did  not  mean  to  be  disrespectful.  I  could 
hardly  help  saying  that — " 

"What.?"  " 

"  That  these  historic  bears  do  not  quite  meet  my  expectations." 

"Oh!"  and  Aunt  Mar  added  sharply,  "I  wonder  what  would 
quite  meet  the  expectations  of  a  girl  from  a  ranch  in  the  Rockies ! " 

"  I  do  not  know;  I  do  not  mean  to  be  boastful.  Will  you  not 
come  and  pay  me  a  visit.?  You  may  have  free  use  of  my  horses,  and 
I  will  go  with  you  into  the  Selkirks,  and  then  you  will  understand 
what  I  mean.  Your  nephew  talks  of  visiting  the  Northwest;  I  hope 
we  may  have  the  pleasure  of  entertaining  him.  I  am  sure  that  he 
will  regard  ranch  life  a  very  free  and  noble  one,  and  will  think 
that  our  mountains  and  valleys  and  even  bears  are  not  inferior  to 
these.     I  am  sori-y  ii  I  have  seeiried  rude." 

Arthur  Burns  became  acquainted  with  Helena  on  the  return  of 
the  party  from  Switzerland.  Nothing  gave  him  so  much  pleasure 
as  to  question  her  about  life  in  the  great  Northwest,  partly  on  account 
of  his  growing  interest  in  the  great  emjDire,  and  partly  because  the 
very  agreeable  girl  seemed  pleased  to  answer  his  question?,  and 
enter  into   the  spirit  of  what  he  wished  to  know. 

It  pleased  Helena  to  so  answer  his  questions  as  to  excite  sur- 
prise. Once,  when  he  had  asked  her  how  long  a  horseback  ride  it 
would   be  from  one  end  of   Montana  to  the  other,  she  said :  — ■ 


-.tf.-nfr^r^r^m^'^'f'^t'y'f^-^n^-'iiv. 


■Ti'myiw^iw^ 


104 


ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS  hV  THE  GREAT  NORTHWEST. 


■J 


"Oh,  five  hundred  and  forty  miles.  Do  you  want  to  know  how 
large  Montana  really  is?  Well,  we  will  call  it  a  great  trundle-bed. 
Come,  England  and  Scotland, 

get  in  first;  come,  Ireland,  you  will  ^^    ^c^^.?.^^ 

need  plenty  of  room,  so  we 
will  leave  a 
long  space  be- 
tween ;  come, 
Denmark,  here 
is  a  wide  space 
for  you ;  and 
here,  little  Hol- 
land, you  can 
creep  in  too. 
Now  you  can 
all  go  to  sleep 
and  not  jostle 
one  another." 

"  How  many 
inhabitants 
have  you.''" 
asked  Arthur,  one  day. 

"  Oh,  less  than  one  hundred  and 
fifty  thousand,  perhaps." 

"  I  should   think    one    would  be  '■-'■^ 

rather  lonesome  in  a  country  of  one 
hundred    and    forty-five   thousand   square    miles, 
with  only  one  inhabitant  to  a  mile." 

"  But,"  answered   Helena,  "  nearly  all  of  our 
people  are  rich,  and  our  poorer  cousins  from  over  the  sea  are  coming 
in  flocks,  like   Sir  Joseph    Porter's    numerous    relatives,  to    keep  us 
company.      Our  keeping-room  is  large  enough  for  them  all,  and  we 


A    MEAHOW   BKOOK. 


WHY  THE  MONTANA    GIRL    WAS  NOT  SURTKISED. 


105 


have  plenty  of  grain  to  feed  tlieni  all,  and  plenty  of  coal  to  warm 
them  all.  1  declare,  I  do  pity  the  poor  of  London  every  time  I  go 
into  the  streets.  1  do  not  wonder  that  they  become  hard,  and  sick 
at  heart,  and  ask  why  they  were  called  into  being.  They  do  not 
know  that  God  has  provided  a  world  for  them ;  they  think  that 
London  is  the  world.  You  could  not  find  ragged  children  enough  to 
make  a  school  interesting,  in  all  Montana,  or  in  British  Columbia." 

Once  when  Arthur  asked  her  how  it  was  the  steamers  came 
loaded  every  year  to  Liverpool  with  visiting  Americans,  Helena 
said,  with   the  free  air  of  her  own   mountains  and  plains,  — 

"  Let  your  people  all  remember 
Uncle  Sam  is  not  a  fool. 
Where  the  people  do  the  voting. 
And  the  ciiildren  go  to  scliool." 

"  Are  not  the  settlers  troubled  with  wild  animals  ?  "  asked  Arthur 
on  one  occasion. 

"  Yes,  sometmies,"  answered  Helena. 

"  What  kinds  are  most  troublesome?  " 

"  Catamounts  in  the  story-books,  cats  in  reality.  I  once  knew 
an  old  lady  from  Boston  who  had  a  fearful  adventure  on  a  Montana 
ranch." 

"  What  was  it  .^  " 

"  She  went  to  the  mountains  to  make  a  surprise  visit  to  her 
son-in-law.  When  she  arrived  he  was  not  at  home  ;  he  had  sone 
to  Tacoma.  So  she  entered  tiie  house  and  concluded  to  pass 
the  night  there  alone  with  her  little  grandchild  and  an  emigrant 
servant.     In  the  night  she  '^eard  a  scratching  on  the  roof. 

"  What  is  that  ?  "  she  asked  of  the  child. 

"  Nothing  but  old  Catamount,"  said  the  sleepy  boy. 

"A  catamount!"  exclaimed  the  old  lady,  rising  in  the  greatest 
terror,  and  awaking  the  servant,  whom  she  informed  that  a  great 
cati    lount  was  breakinc:  into  the  house. 


; 


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i^5W;?JW.WH'  >!M'3k3«Vr,«ra'.-yrr 


"»»»»fcwiW!'"  •C--.'>i- 


.T'-'^mmimH 


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f  I 


! 


1 06 


ZIGZAG  JOURAEVS  IN  THE   GREA  T  iXORTHWEST. 


The  servant,  who  had  read  boys'  books  of  the  far  West,  was 
as  greatly  terrified.  The  scratching  continued,  and  the  two  terri- 
fied souls  sat  up  all  night,  expecting  every  moment  that  the  cata- 
mount would  break  in  and  devour  them. 


A   WINDING   MOUNTAIN    STHEAM. 


In  the  morning  the  little  grandson  awoke. 

"Oh,  my  little  innocent  such  a  night  as  we  have  had!"  said 
the  grandmother.     "You  said  it  was  a  catamount." 

"  Yes,  old  Catamount,  the  cat.  There  she  is  now  at  the  door. 
Listen  —  " 

"Mieu!" 

Miss   Helena    imitated    the  inhospitably  treated    cat  with   a  most 


IVNV  THE  MONTANA    GIRL    HAS  NOT  SURPRISED. 


107 


comical  expression  of  the  face,  her  eyebrows  lifting,  and  her  lips 
protruding  with  a  pout  of  woe.  She  evidently  was  not  troubled 
about  the  wild  animals  of  Montana. 

Charlie  Hampden  and  Arthur  Burns  continued  their  intimacy 
until  March,  when  Arthur  sailed  for  America  with  Mr.  Lette,  in 
an  Allan    Line  steamer  to    Halifax.     They  were  there   to    take    the 


RESTING   FOR   THE   NIGHT. 


Intercolonial  Railroad  for  Montreal.  Charlie  promised  to  meet 
Arthur  in  British  Columbia  in  June.  He  was  to  return  in  early 
summer  to  Quebec,  and  had  arranged  to  meet  Mr.  Lette  at  Mon- 
treal, and  to  go  with  him  to  British  Columbia  and  Washington  on 
his  second  trip  to  V'^ancouver.  Mr.  Lette  made  several  trips  be- 
tween  Montreal  and  Vancouver  during  the  summer, 

A  farewell  meeting  was  given  to  Arthur  Burns  at  the(irace  Darling 
Institute.  It  was  made  the  occasion  of  a  patriotic  entertainment,  and 
many  people  were  invited  who  were  not  connected  with  tlie  school. 


Sr 


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f  J 

\  '■  ! 
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1- 


io8 


ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS  IN  THE   GREAT  NORTHWEST. 


.i 


The  entertainment  consisted  of  Dr.  Mackay's  cantata,  called  "The 
Emigrants,"   and   some   original   songs    written    by   Mr.    Lette.     Dr. 


LIVERPOOL   ON    A    FOGOY   HAY. 


.  -mi 


Mackay's  song,  "To  the  West!  to  the  West!"  was  sung  with  great 
spirit,  and  "  Far,  far  upon  the  Sea  "  was  beautifully  rendered  as  a  solo. 
But  the  most  inspiring  song  of  all  was  "Cheer,  boys,  cheer!" 


mmm^ 


.-;■ 


i  :  tfi 


THE   STKAMSHIi'  "  AMKIUCA. 


^ymMm^-i'^mmmmimmmmmmmm 


.-■■•■  ■/■■J|l!tl«8»M»te,.-.«ifty.JlUM^M BHBM— 


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tV//y   IHE  MONTANA    GIRL    WAS  NOT  SURPRISED. 


1  I  ( 


ON    THE    MKRSKY. 

"  Cheer,  boys,  cheer,  the  merry  breeze  is  blowing 
To  waft  lis  onward  o'er  the  ocean's  breast ; 
The  world  shall  follow  in  the  path  we  're  going. 
The  Star  of  Empire  glitters  in  the  West. 

Cheer,  boys,  cheer,  for  country,  mother-country; 
Cheer,  boys,  cheer,  for  the  willing,  strong  right  hand 
Cheer,  boys,  cheer,  there  's  wealth  for  honest  labor  ; 
Cheer,  boys,  cheer,  for  the  new  and  happy  land." 


S=: 


' : !  if 
Mi 

■;(6 


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»>(PIT|<|PI|in|imHp|  .V--*i«I"R!B|8fW»>»»;-«»B»»»-.wr^. ^ 


building 


112  ZIGZAG  JOURAEVS  IN  THE   GREAT  NORTHWEST. 

This   was  sung  by   all   the   boys,  and   the   chorus  shook    the  old 

:ling. 

Mr.  Lette  sang  a  song  of  his  own  composition.     It  was  — 

TFIE    PLOUGHSHARES    OF   THE   WEST. 

Heart  of  the  West,  I  love  thee, — 

Tliy  pulses  grand  .ind  free, 
Thy  sails  of  progress  as  they  move 

Across  the  floral  sea. 
The  pen  of  art,  that  song  indites. 

May  stir  the  gentler  jjreast; 
IJut  history's  noblest  pages  writes 
The  ploughshare  of  the  West. 
Good  cheer,  my  boys, 
:        .  Cheer,  cheer,  my  boys. 

The  ploughshares  of  the  West. 


t 


A 


The  world's  best  hands  now  drive  the  plough, 

The  soil-i^ing  's  freedom-crowned. 
And  man's  imperial  cliariots  now 

Are  those  that  break  the  ground. 
The  rime,  the  rune,  the  saga  old 

May  be  the  hermit's  quest, 
But  man's  best  promise  writes  the  bold, 

IJrave  ploughshare  of  the  West. 
Good  cheer,  my  boys,  etc. 

Plough  on,  plough  on,  till  justice  rule  ; 

Plough,  for  the  ages  wait ; 
Plough  for  the  church,  plough  for  the  school, 

Plough  for  the  hall  of  state  ; 
Plough,  like  the  hand  of  Lincoln,  plough, 

Like  Garfield,  for  the  best. 
And  map  the  fields  of  nations  now. 

Ye  ploughshares  of  the  West. 
Good  cheer,  my  boys,  etc. 

Then  hail  forever,  sons  of  toil.  :?  •  .  ■ 

And  hail  the  work  ye  do, 
Thy  field  the  mighty  empire's  soil. 

And  brown  thy  royal  hue  ! 


THE    RURNING    VESSEL 


i.i  I 


§!• 


//7/)'   y///-;   MONTAXA    C'RL    WAS  NOT  \L//i/'A'/S/:/J.  115 

And  hail  ye  cabin-palace  jj-iles 

'I'liat  ope  to  every  ^jiiest : 
All  hail !   Heaven's  noblest  blessing  waits 
The  pIoujj;hshares  of  the  West. 
Good  cheer,  my  boys, 
Cheer,  Lheor,  my  boys, 
The  plougiishares  of  the  West. 

Helena  Earl  took  part  in  the  entertainment.  She  represented 
America.  She  stood  beside  Arthur  in  the  last  tableau,  dressed  in 
white,  holding  the  American  flag  in  such  a  way  that  the  folds  fell 
over  her  shoulders.  She  looked  very  beautiful  and  noble,  and  the 
boys  called  her  the  Princess  Montana.  She  sang  an  American  song 
composed  by  one  of  her  friends  in  Boston,  and  set  to  rearranged 
music  of  the  old  war-tune  "  Maryland,  my  Maryland,"  itself  rearranged 
from  an  operatic  air. 

THE  amp:rican  knight. 

Let  other  lands  of  kniglithood  sing  ! 

Thou  art  my  song,  America ; 
In  thee  each  free-born  soul  is  king. 
In  freedom  and  America  ! 
Strong  were  the  hands  that  planted  thee. 
Grand  was  the  •'  MayHowLr''  on  the  sea, 
That  bore  the  seed  of  liberty 
To  thee,  the  world's  America  ! 

The  ages  waited  long  for  thee, 
Our  own,  our  own  America  ; 
Then  rose  the  pilot  of  the  sea, 
Amerira,  America  ! 

He  siw  the  stars  prophetic  shine. 
And  oreamed  the  earth  a  star  divine, 
And  found,  beyond  the  horizon's  line, 
Thy  happy  isles,  America  ! 

Let  other  lands  of  knighthood  sing  ! 

Thou  art  my  song,  America  ; 
Each  free-born  soul  is  crowned  a  king. 
In  my  own  land,  America  ! 

I  love  thy  homes,  where  honor  dwells. 
The  honest  toil  that  commerce  swells ; 
I  love  thy  old  New  England  bells. 
My  own,  my  own  America  ! 


It  m 


.    ,J| 

■    f' 

1    JI^R 

7    f_ 

1     iBH 

: 

■    mi 

'p  m 

11  m 

:       '      -i    |W| 

"     J  M 

;  ■ ; i  ji 

1 : .  1 

H'i 

' '  JBl 

I  ■  '1.  i|N 

j 

\m 

ffimar}HnmmmimK.K.    ■ 


ii6 


ZJGZAG   JOUHNEYS  IN  THE   GREAT  NORTHWEST. 


ffi    ( 


:;^jf ! 


3  ti 


TiZK    BANKS    OP'    Nr.WFOUNDLANn. 


Arthur  ended  the  entertainment  bv  sinijincf  "  God  Save  the 
Queen,"  under  the  folds  of  the  British  flag,  which  he  held  in  his 
hand.     The  audience  responded   with  :  — 


"So  s;iv  we  all  of  us, 
So  say  we  all  of  iis. 
So  si'.v  we  all."'  otc. 


rF//r   THE  MONTANA    GIRL    WAS  NOT  S(JNPA'/SED. 


117 


,  J 


Several  months  later  our  party  were  on  board  the  great  steam- 
ship "America,"  sailing  down  the  Mersey.  Liverpool  on  a  foggy  da\-, 
when  the  smoke  does  not  rise  above  the  chimney-tops,  is  indeed 
unpleasant ;  but  on  this  morning  the  city  put  on  its  best  appear- 
ance, the  weather  being  fine,  and  the  sail  down  the  Mersey  was 
very  enjoyable  and  full  of  interest. 

When  but  a  day  out,  they  saw  what  is  a  terrible  sight  at  sea, — 
a  ship  on  fire.  The  burning  merchantman  was  clearly  beyond  con- 
trol ;  '  and  the  sailors,  seeing  that  their  vessel  was  doomed,  were 
rapidly  rowing  toward  an  inward-bound  steamer  that  was  waiting 
to  take  them  back  to  England. 

The  time  on  board  passed  quickly,  and  almost  before  our  travellers 
knew  it  they  were  in  sight  of  the  Banks  of  Newfoundland. 


1  it 


,.'1 


I  jjg_f.  «(»<»* 


ffrt^iBiiiiiililifiii'i'i'iiiiJb'ft^Yrti 


'r««f*ssw!WfSfjw?»«r.'-' 


I;  i 


CHAPTER  VI. 

OVER"  THE  CANADIAN  PACIFIC  RAILROAD  TO  WINNIPEG. —THE  BEAUTY 
OF  THE  LAKES;  OR,  THE  SUN-FIRE:  A  DRAMATIC  STORY  OF  SAULT 
STE.    MARIE. 

HE  lights  of  the  old  French  city  of  Jacques  Cartier 
glimmered  on  the  Heights  of  Abraham,  on  the  For- 
tress, and  over  the  Terrace,  as  the  great  ocean  steamer 
came  calmly  to  rest.     It  was  late  in  the  evening. 

"  Passengers  who  wish  to  land  at  Quebec  to-night 
can  now  go  ashore,"  said  the  officer  of  the  boat. 


.'■! 


Wj^^,,^(r  'Ci^, 


'."n  %"5^^-"--_?^JSr53^= 


THE   GULF   OF   ST.   LAWRENCE. 


Our  tourists  were  tired  of  the  sea,  though  the  passage  had  been 
a  smooth  one,  and  they  hurried  to  the  tender,  and  were  soon  landed 
at  the  American  city  of   1535. 


iiiJtait  niiriiiM. 


OVEIi    THE   CANADIAN  PACIFIC  RAILROAD. 


119 


The  next  day  they  were  on  the  Canadian   Pacific  Railroad  bound 
for    Montreal.       It  was  a  charming    ride,  —  past    the    ancient   settle- 
ments, past  Lorette  of  the  Huron  Indians,  founded  nearly  two  hundred 
and  sixty  years  ago,  past  beautiful 
churches   and   pastoral    homes. 

Montreal   is  a  surprise,  a 
splendor,  a  veritable  wonder. 


"♦.!;: 


.»''. 


li 


OLD    HOUSES   IN    QUEBEC. 


It 
l  f 


It  seems  to  be  a  city  of  churches.  Situated  on  an  island  formed  by 
the  junction  of  the  St.  Lawrence  with  the  Ottawa,  and  connected 
with  the  mainland  by  a  bridge  which  is  held  to  be  one  of  the 
wonders  of  the  world,  overshadowed  by  Mount  Royal,  overhung  with 
melodious  bells  and  gray  bell-towers,  hospitable  with  palace  hotels 
and  public  buildings,  the  traveller  at  once  wishes  to  stop  here,  and 
is  slow  to  go.  Old  Montreal,  or  Hochelaga,  is  one  of  the  earliest 
settlements  in   America. 

Here  our  tourists  met  Mr.  Lette,  and  the  meetins:  was  a  ulad  one. 


V 


il 


I 


; 


I': 


; 


u 


I 


r;;:i 


I  20 


ZIGZAG   JOURNEYS  IN  THE  GREAT  NORTHWEST. 


Aunt  Mar  and  her  niece  were  to  return  to  Rhode  Island  after  a 
few  days  in  the  city.  Charles  and  Mrs.  Earl  and  Helena  were  to 
go  to  Vancouver  with  Mr.  Lette,  after  which  Helena  was  to  return 
to  her  home  in  Montana  by  the  way  of   Puget  Sound,  Tacoma,  and 

the  Northern  Pacific  Railroad. 

The  first  questions  that  Charles 
and  Helena  asked  Mr.  Lette  were 
about  Arthur  Burns. 

"  I  left  him  delighted  on  a  home- 
stead  which   he   had   taken   near  the 
Gulf  of  Georgia,"  said   Mr.   Lette. 
"All  alone.?"  asked  both. 
"  No." 

"  Who  is  with  him  }  " 
"  Wilhelmine." 

"  Who  is  he?  "  asked  Charles. 
"Who  is  she?"  asked  Helena. 
"Arthur  joined  a  jjarty  of  Swedish 
emitifrants  at  Vancouver.  He  had 
met  them  on  the  train, 
them  was  a  girl  tiamed  Wilhelmine. 
She  was  an  orphan,  and  was  de- 
pendent upon  one  of  the  families. 
Arthur  became  greatly  interested  in 
her.  On  arriving  at  Vancouver,  and  s:f)ino:  to  the  Government 
Land  Office,  he  found,  as  I  had  told  him,  that  this  young  lady 
could  secure  a  homestead  of  one  hundred  and  sixty  acres  as  well 
as  himself,  and  they  thought  it  would  be  social  to  take  their  claims 
tou;ether.  Then  Arthur  saw  that  it  would  be  better  for  them  both  to 
have  one  log-house,  and  so  Wilhelmine  consented  that  the  minister 
should  be  called  to  make  the  matter  legal  and  agreeable.  They 
were   living    in  a  tent   when    I  left   them,   but    they   will    have   a  log 


Among 


A   STREKT    IN   QUEBKC. 


7 


IVWI 


■yui«^i,wi«" 


OVER   THE   CANADIAN  PACIFIC  RAILROAD. 


121 


cabin  before  you  arrive.     As  soon  as  the  cabin  is  built,  Arthur  is  to 
obtain    work  in  one  of  the  lumber-mills.      A  place  is  promised  him 
at  good    vvagej;  for   a 
beginner." 

"  How  does  the 
place  look  ?  "  asked 
Charlie. 

"  Like  a  thousand- 
years-old  forest,"  said 
Mr.  Lette.  *'  They  are 
clearing  with  fire  a 
place  for  a  garden. 
They  expect  to  have 
a  clearing  for  a  prune- 
orchard  before  fall,  and 
to  build  a  good  house 
when  Arthur  has 
earned  enough  money. 
The  woods  are  full  of 
game,  and  the  waters 
will  soon  abound  with 
wild  geese  and  ducks. 


'■^•i«~"«*fi4| 


T  ii  e  y  will  have  a 
rough  time  for  a  year 
or  two,  but  their  three 
hundred  and  twentv 
acres  of  land  will  sfrow 
in  value  as  the  popu- 
lation    increases,    and 

they  are    likely  to    be   well-to-do    before    ten    years 
Arthur  came  to  Canarla." 

That  evening,   Charles,    Mrs.    Earl    and    Helena,  and    Mr.    Lette 


FAIXS   OF   THE    MONTMORF.NCI- 

I  am  clad  that 


r>' 


i    i; 


*  '    3 


122 


ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS  IN  THE   GREAT  NORTHWEST. 


were   on   the   train  for  Vancouver,  —  a  train  that  bridges  the  conti- 
nent and  makes  the  Atlantic  Ocean  a  ferriage. 

The   cars   were   solid   and   comfortable.      This    road  is  generally 
level   between    Montreal   and    the   mountains.      Wood  is  much  used 


■■[  i 


THE   CHAUnifeKK    FALLS. 

on  the  engines,  so  that  the  black  coal-smoke  of  travel  is  avoided, 
and  one  can  sleep  as  comfortably  on  these  cars  as  at  a  palace  hotel. 
Indeed,  a  humorist  has  said  that  a  bride  could  make  a  tour  across 
the  continent  by  this  railroad  without  so  much  as  soiling  her  veil. 
The  train  stops  at  least  three  times  a  day  for  meals,  and  has  a  fine 


tmmm^mmmii^ 


■UTiijjurnMiiii 


Ol'£/i   THE   C.LVADI.LX  PACIFIC  KAILROAD. 


125 


cl. 


nf.' 


dining-car  attached,  or  dining-cars  that  are  attached  at  regular  inter- 
vals.    The  road  between    Montreal   and  Winnipeg  is  not  so  interest- 
ing beyond    Ottawa  as  is  the    rest  of  the  way,  the  last  four  hundred 
miles  of  which  have  no  equal  in 
the  world. 

Ottawa  is  a  poem,  especially 
as  viewed  from  the  river.  It 
would  be  even  more  sightly  if 
the  waters  were  freed  from  the 
sawdust  of  the  mills.  The 
government  buildings  here  are 
among  the  most  beautiful  in 
America,  and  the  views  of  the 
river  from  the  parks  around 
these  buildings  are  a  summer 
delight.  Here  our  tourists  were 
met  by  another  Mr.  Lette,  who 
has  been  the  city  clerk  of  Ot- 
tawa for  some  thirty  years,  a 
local  poet  and  orator  who  loves 
his  country  with  real  patriotic 
fervor,  and  knows  how  to  ex- 
press the  sentiment  in  prose  and 
verse.  With  him  our  tourists 
hastily    visited     the    Parliament 

Park,  the  City  Hall,  and  the  wonderful  Museum  containing  the  most 
interesting  specimens  of  minerals  and  natural  history.  If  you  visit 
Ottawa,  reader,  be  sure  to  see  the  curious  animals,  birds,  and 
Indian  masks  in  this  museum.  Out  of  the  beautiful  Ottawa  valley 
the  train  swept  on  its  sunny  way  to  Mattawa,  and  thence  to  North 
Bay,  a  city  leaping  into  life  out  of  the  woods  on  rolling  Lake 
Nipissing;  thence   to   Arthur's   Landing,  or   Port  Arthur,  nearly  one 


TOBOGGANING. 


iiiS' 


11  i 


:m- 


■  *  f  I 


(  B 


it  h'X 


•  •v-ffw^mMipr^ 


'M 


'H 


?)iiii 


124 


ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS  IN  THE   GREAT  NORTHWEST. 


thousand  miles  from   Montreal,  on   the  sounding  shores  of   Thunder 
Bay.     The  scenery  is  wild  and  desolate  in  places  beyond  Port  Arthur. 


CEDAR   HAY.   NEAR   OTTAWA. 


^£y>^/ 


The   Lake  of  the  Woods  offers    tlie 
'     '  most  interesting  views  at  its  outlet. 

at  Rat  Portage.     At  noon  on  the  third  day  our  tourists  were  at  Win- 
nipeg, 1424  miles  from   Montreal.  ,  ; 


re 
arl 

od 
lej 
lai 
Sui 

rc;j 


Ol'ER    THE    CA.YADJ.LV  r.lCIFlC  RAILROAJh 


125 


1^ 


I  the 
net. 
'in- 


They  were  now  on  the  Red  River  of  the  North  and  romantic 
Assiniboine.  •• 

,  From  old  Fort  Gerry  of  the  Hudson  Bay  Company,  on  the  great 
Lone  Land  of  the  mid-ocean  territory,  Winnipeg,  the  metropohs  of 
the  Northwest,  suddenly  began  to  attract  the  ears  of  the  world.  The 
Hudson  Bay  Company's  license  over  the  country  ceased  in  1859. 
Pioneers  began  to  flock  at  once  to  the  old  Company's  post.  In  1862 
a  village  had  been  formed,  and  England  began  to  hear  of  the  grain- 
growing  ocean  of  land,  in  which  it  rose  like  an  island.  In  J870  there 
were  some  thirty  buildings  outside  of  the  fort.  In  the  fall  of  1880  the 
Dominion  of  Canada  and  a  syndicate  of  capitalists  agreed  to  begin  the 
construction  of  the  Canadian  Pacific  Railway.  Clear-si f^h ted  people 
were  not  slow  to  discern  that  the  situation  of  Winnipeg  must  make 
it  a  great  city  if  the  road  should  be  built.  In  1881,  speculators 
reached  the  town ;  real-estate  agents  filled  it,  and  its  history  is  in- 
volved in  one  of  those  transient  excitements  called  a  boom.  The 
town  soon  became  a  city  ;  the  railroad,  after  some  changes  of  man- 
agement, was  built,  and  the  city  enlarged  and  is  enlarging.  Its  spires 
rose  over  the  Lone  Land,  and  its  many  bells  rang  over  the  vast  grain 
sea.  It  is  a  very  beautiful  city  to-day,  and  has  a  great  history 
before  it. 

The  early  history  of  this  vast  region  of  the  Lakes  has  many 
romantic  traditions,  and  there  are  few  legends  of  early  times  that 
are  more  worthy  of  the  attention  of  musician,  artist,  or  poet  than 
one  we  are  about  to  give  the  reader.  Every  nation  has  a  few  great 
lesfcnds,  as  the  Anolo-Saxon  Chronicle  and  Arthurean  heroes  of  Ens:- 
land,  the  Rhine-gold  and  Faust  of  Germany,  and  William  Tell  of 
Switzerland.  Such  stories  become  literature,  music,  and  art.  They 
represent   national  history  and   characteristics 

America  is  yet  young.  Her  great  legends  have  hardly  been  recog- 
nized. When  they  shall  be  husbanded  for  art  treasures  as  in  other 
lands,  the  following  tale  of  .Sault  Ste.  Marie   (itself  a  beautiful  name 


126 


ZIGZAG  JOURAEYS  IN  THE  GREAT  i\ORTHV\'EST. 


for  art  work),  is  likely  to  become  conspicuous,  as  it  has  the  largest 
dramatic  possibilities.  We  may  call  this  legend  "  The  Beauty  of  the 
Lakes."  The  version  of  it  that  we  give  here  is  furnished  us  by  Mr. 
Fitzmaurice,  a  well-known  Michigan   editor  and  writer.     We  abridge 


SAULT   STF.    MARIE. 


it  from  a  serial  story  published  by  him,  and  use  it  by  his  special 
permission.  The  dramatic  scene  is  entirely  from  Mr.  Fitzmaurice's 
picturesque  pen. 


THE   BEAUTY   OF   THE   LAKES; 

OR,  THE   SUN-FIRE. 

A  DRAMATIC    STORY  OF  SAULT   STE.   MARIE. 

One  afternoon  in  August,  1670,  the  Chippewa  village  at  Ste.  Marie's 
Falls  was  thrown  into  great  commotion.  The  cause  was  the  simultaneous 
arrival  of  what  may  be  termed  the  representatives  of  the  Cross  and  the 
scalping-knife. 


ine  s 
leous 
the 


Oy£A!    THE  CANADIAN  PACIFIC  RAILROAD. 


127 


To  explain;  the  great  Chipi)c\\ a  nation  had  several  branches,  the  greatest 
of  which  were  the  Hurons  aiul  Objibwas.  The  branch  retaining  their 
original  name  of  Chippewa  had  their  principal  town  at  Sault  Ste.  Marie. 
North  of  them  was  tlie  nation  of  Iroquois,  and  south  the  Objibwas  ex- 
tended their  hunting-grounds  from  Lake  Superior  to  the  headwaters  of  the 
Mississippi. 

Wabocgonas,  "White  Otter"  (so  called  from  his  light  complexion),  was 
chief  of  the  Objibwas.  His  principal  headquarters  was  upon  the  largest  of 
the  Apostle  Islands,  near  the  south  end  of  Lake  Superior.  His  father, 
a  Frenchman,  had  deserted  his  mother,  a  Chippewa  chief's  daughter,  while 
he  was  yet  a  babe.  Upon  the  desertion,  his  mother,  being  a  high-spirited 
woman,  committed  suicide;  first,  however,  intrusting  the  child  to  the  care  of 
the  chief,  with  the  request  that  he  should  be  brought  up  and  trained  to  hate 
white  men  and  a\enge  his  wronged  .mother.  The  old  chief  was  faithful  to 
his  trust,  and  White  Otter's  hostility  toward  the  whites  was  well  known. 

Pere  Marquette,  a  Jesuit  missionary,  —  born  1637,  died  1675,  —  had  labored 
among  the  Chippewas  at  the  Sault  for  two  years.  He  had  been  largely  in- 
strumental in  bringing  about  a  treaty  between  them  and  the  Hudson  Bay 
Company,  who,  as  a  result,  were  about  to  establish  a  large  trading-post  at 
Sault  Ste.  Marie. 

This  gave  offence  to  the  great  war-chief  of  the  Objibwas,  and  he  made 
this  his  excuse  for  declaring  war  upon  tlie  Chippewas.  So  he  sent  Otonogas, 
*'  Gray  Wolf,"  his  most  powerful  lieutenant,  to  convey  his  message  of  dis- 
approbation at  their  harboring  the  "  black  coats  "  and  "  white  snakes,"  as  the 
missionaries  and  traders  were  respectivel}'  called. 

By  a  coincidence,  the  great  war  canoe  arrived  at  the  mouth  of  the  St.  Mary 
River  at  the  same  time  that  the  French  coureiirs  de  bois,  with  goods  to 
stock  the  trading-station,  ^-rived  at  the  Falls  a  mile  below.  Hence  the 
commotion.     It  was  the  knife  and  the  Cross  meeting  face  to  face. 

The  great  war-drum  began  to  beat,  calling  the  chiefs  and  warriors  to  a 
grand  council. 

When  all  were  a.ssembled,  Gray  Wolf,  who  was  decked  in  all  the  barbaric 
splendor  of  his  high  station,  with  a  rich  head-dress  of  gayly-colored  eagle- 
feathers,  a  gray  wolf-skin  robe  trimmed  with  black  scalp-locks,  and  a  painted 
face,  proudly  delivered  his  message,  to  the  effect  that  if  peace  was  to  continue 
between  the  Objibwas  and  Chippewas,  the  "  black  coats "  and  "  the  lying 
white  traders  who  steal  Indian  maidens"  must  die;  and  then  with  the  war-cry 
of  the  Objibwas  he  whirled  his  tomahawk  around  his  head  and  launched   it 


i    i 


i 


— l.JJ.l..!!-'.T' 


^S*PB" 


ri 


m 


M 


fi  «■  ^ 


138 


ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS  AV   /'//A'   GREAT  NORTHIVEST 


with  unerring  force  at  the  trunk  of  the  pine  forming  the  centre  of  the  lodge> 
to  signify  that  a  refusal  meant  war  to  the  death. 

To  this  the  Chippewa  chief  with  his  own  tomahawk  gave  an  equally 
defiant  answer,  which  was  received  with  a  shout  of  approval  by  the  assembled 
braves :  "  Let  it  be  war  to  the  death  !  I  care  not  and  fear  not !  Take  thou 
back  my  answer  to  thy  chief,  and  depart  in  peace." 

At  this  critical  moment  Pere  Marquette,  folUnved  by  Greysolon  DuLuth, 
the  brave  leader  of  the  traders,  pushed  his  way  through  the  mass  of  warriors 
to  the  open  space  in  the  centre.     There  he  stood,  silent  for  a  moment,  gazing 


RIDEAU   FALLS,    OTTAWA. 

upon  the  multitude  surgin;^  around  him,  astonished  at  his  audacity.  His 
eyes  blazed  with  the  fire  of  heroic  enthusiasm.  Fearlessly  he  stood,  and 
fearlessly  in  the  name  of  God  he  called  upon  them  to  cease  their  blood- 
thirstiness,  and  learn  to  love  and  forgive;  and  urged  them  to  conciliate  the 
Objibwa  chief  and  teach  him  kindness  and  peace,  and  turning  to  the  Objibwa, 
he  said  that  God  could  so  soften  the  heart  of  his  cruel  chief  that  it  would  be 
like  the  heart  of  a  little  child,  and,  upon  being  dared,  offered  to  go  and  tell 
Waboegonas   so  to  his  face. 

The  Chippewas  tried  to  dissuade  him,  knowing  it  was  sure  death;   but  he 


t'2Ki 


A    WAK    CANUK    ()'•"    THK    OHJIIUVAS. 


,,l^jmiiiiiP!Wip<Biiii'P!!^^ 


■S9" 


OVER    THE   CANADI^iN  PACIFIC  RAILROAD. 


I3X 


was  firmly  convinced  of  his  duty  to  go  in  the  name  of  his  Master  and  preach 
the  gospel;  whereupon  DuLuth  announced  his  intention  to  accompany  the 
holy  father. 

At  early  dawn  they  entered  the  war  canoe  of  the  Objibwas,  and  started 
upon  a  voyage  from  which  the  assembled  Indians  and  coiircurs  dc  bois  felt 
assured  they  would  never  return  alive. 

They  were  conducted  into  the  presence  of  the  White  Otter,  who  having 
been  informed  by  Gray  Wolf  of  what  Marquette  had  said,  was  speechless  with 
rage.  He  had  them  bound  hand  and  foot  with  tough  rawhide  thongs,  and 
thrown  into  the  Cave  of  Death  to  await  the  morrow's  sacrifice. 

DuLuth,  for  attempting  to  resist,  was  knocked  senseless  by  a  war-club. 
During  the  night  he  recovered  consciousness  and  found  himself  in  the  im- 
penetrable darkness.  Soon  the  stillness  was  broken  by  the  voice  of  song 
and  prayer.  It  was  Marquette.  He  began  to  comfort  DuLuth,  and  assured 
him  of  their  certain  deliverance.  "  Stand  thou  still  and  behold  the  glory  of 
God  in  the  rescue."     And  so  it  came  to  pass. 

Waboegontis  had  killed  his  wife  that  night  because  she  had  interceded  in 
behalf  of  the  two  white  strangers.  His  favorite  daughter,  Wanena,  a  beautiful 
girl,  and  known  as  the  Beauty  of  the  Lakes,  actuated  partly  by  the  same  spirit 
as  her  mother,  and  partly  to  avenge  her  mother's  death,  thereupon  determined 
to  rescue  then-.  Under  cover  of  darkness  she  crept  into  the  cave,  freed 
them  from  the'*  bonds,  and  guided  them  by  a  secret  tunnel  to  the  shore  of 
the  lake,  amid  a  thick  cluster  of  cedars,  where  they  were  enveloped  in  a  dense 
fog.  She  launched  a  small  birch  canoe,  and  at  the  same  time  disclosed  her 
identity,  and  hci  motive  in  liberating  them.  Slie  bade  them  lose  no  time, 
but  enter  at  once  and  paddle  for  their  lives,  and  she  would  pilot  them  to  die 
Holy  Isle. 

This  island,  which  they  reached  about  an  hour  after  sunrise,  lies  nearly 
in  the  centre  of  the  great  lake,  midway  between  Sault  Ste.  Marie  and  tiie 
opposite  shore.  Here  the  medicine  priests  of  the  Objibwas  had  established 
the  home  of  the  Great  Spirit,  and  woven  every  possible  legend,  fable,  and 
myth  about  it,  to  beget  fear  and  reverence.  Here  the  Objibwas  at  stated 
intervals  made  pilgrimages  to  render  homage  and  present  offerings  to  the 
Great  Spirit,  or  Manitou,  whose  image  was  on  the  island.  It  was  because  it 
was  held  so  sacred  that  she  deemed  it  a  safe  hiding-place.  The  canoe  was 
h'dden  among  the  trees.  She  told  them  that  her  plan  was  for  them  to 
hide  on  the  island  until  they  could  see  if  the\'  were  pursued,  and  then  continue 
on  their  way  as  soon  as  the\  were  out  of  danger,  while  she  would  remain  and 
gladly  sacrifice  herself  if  need  be. 


! 


■.\: 

m 


132 


ZIGZAG   JOURNEYS  IN  THE   GREAT  NORTHWEST. 


si  f 


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To  this  DuLuth  responded :  "  No,  my  girl,  if  we  escape  you  go  with  us ; 
and  God  do  so  to  me  as  I  deal  with  the  woman  who  has  so  nobly  risked  her 
life  to  save  us.     Where  shall  we  h'de?  " 

She  led  them  through  thickets  and  over  bowlders,  till  near  the  centre  of 


-«i=' 


THE   P/R(.IAMKNT    nUU.DlNRS.    OTTAWA. 


the  island  the}'  began  to  descend  precipitous,  steep  rock^.  Passing  through  a 
narrow  chasm  between  two  gigantic  pillars,  they  found  themselves  in  a  semi- 
circular space  of  some  fifty  feet  in  diameter,  the  perpendictdar  walls  reaching 
up  fully  seventy-five  feet. 


OVER    THE  CANADIAN  PACIFIC  RAILROAD. 


^Zl 


Near  the  centre,  on  a  flat  stone,  stood  the  uncouth  image  of  the  Manitou, 
a  rudely  carved  pine  trunk,  six  feet  high,  and  dressed  in  all  the  possible 
Indian  fantasy  of  bark,  colored  grass,  feathers,  and  beaded  buckskin  strips. 
Scattered  about  were  the  offerings  in  the  form  of  war  and  hunting  weapons, 
broken  and  disordered. 

"  I  wonder  if  that  murdering  ruffian  will  think  to  look  for  us  here? " 

"I  think  not,  my  son ;  but  if  directed  by  the  Power  tbat  hath  led  us,  he 
will  come." 

"  I  sincerely  trust  not,  father,  else  our  case  would  be  as  hard  as  before, 
were  he  to  find  us  here." 

"  He  has  found  you,  and  no  escape  is  now  possible  !  "  exclaimed  a  deep 
voice. 

Starting  to  their  feet,  the  two  men  beheld  with  dismay  the  dreaded  form 
of  Wabocgonas,  with  eight  of  his  warriors,  standing  at  the  entrance  to  the 
sacred   enclosure. 

They  were  lost!  The  Cross  and  the  scalping-knife  had  at  last  met  face- 
to  face!  Light  and  darkness  had  joined  issue!  DuLuth  grasped  an  old  war- 
club  and  stood  on  the  defensive,  prepared  to  sell  his  life  dearly.  The  Jesuit 
fell  upon  his  knees  and  began  to  recite  the  prayers  for  the  dying.  The  Indian 
girl  covered  her  head  with  her  robe  and  sank  down  by  the  edge  of  the  brook, 
mournfully  chanting  her  death-song,  and  awaiting  the  final  stroke,  which  was 
sure  to  come.  The  Objibwa  chief  with  folded  arms  stood  and  gloated  upon 
the  victims  before  him  with  a  fiendish  grin  upon  his  face,  while  behind  him 
stood  grouped  his  warriors,  ready  at  a  word  to  begin  the  slaughter. 

The  sun  was  upon  the  noon  liour,  and  shot  its  burning  rays  directly 
into  the  gorge  where  the  awful  tableau  was  being  exhibited.  For  fully  five 
minutes  the  actors  in  the  trrigedy  about  to  bo  consummated  were  silent,  till  at 
last  VVaboegonas  spoke  in  sneering  sarcasm:  "And  so  the  'black-coat'  and 
the  white  woman-stealer  have  come  to  die  at  the  feet  of  the  god  of  the 
Objibwas?" 

The  priest  arose  from  liis  kneeling  position,  and  looking  the  savage  full 
in  the  face,  replied:  "Yes,  heathen,  if  so  be  our  hour  has  come,  we  can  die 
defying  both  thee  and  thy  god." 

So  sure  was  the  chief  of  his  prey,  that  like  the  cat  with  the  mouse,  he 
could  afford  to  torment  before  slaying  them.  Advancing  close  to  the  priest, 
he  hissed :  "  Can  the  '  black  coat's '  god  save  his  scalp  from  the  knife  of 
Waboegonas?  " 

"  He  can,  if  it  is  His  will,  thou  pagan  wolf,"  replied  Marquette,  "and  I  defy 
thee  to  do  thy  worst.     We  fear  not  death." 


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134 


ZIGZAG   JOURNEYS  IN  THE   GREAT  NORTHWEST. 


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"  '  Black  coat,'  you  lie  !  " 

"  I  lie  not,  Objibvva;  for  as  sure  as  yon  sun  shines  down  upon  your  hideous 
idol  here,  just  so  sure  can  the  God  wc  serve  deliver  us  out  of  thy  cruel  hands  !  " 

"Ha,  ha,  ha!  Waboegonas  and  his  braves  would  be  glad  to  see  how  your 
god   can  deliver  you." 

"  Come  on,  you  great-  hulking  coward,  you  slayer  of  helpless  women, 
you  murderer  of  unarmeu  i  ^  '  Come  to  me  if  you  dare,  and  I  will  show 
thee  how  a  man  can  fight,"  sh.        J  DuLuth,  whirling  his  club. 

The  savage  gazed  at  him  wun  a  momentary  feeling  of  admiriition:  "The 
woman-stealer  is  a  brave  when  he  knows  he  has  to  die,  but  Waboegonas 
will  not  soil  his  hands  with  a  dog's  blood.  The  torment  and  the  fire  are 
for  him.'' 

"  Do  your  worst,  you  cowardly  snake;  I  defy  you  !  "  retorted  the  French- 
man. 

"Man's  extremity  is  God's  opportunity,  chief,"  said  the  priest,  raising  his 
crucifix  on  high. 

The  monotonous  chant  of  the  girl's  death-song  filled  in  the  silence  which 
ensued. 

It  was  a  spectacle  of  sublimity,  worthy  to  be  perpetuated,  a  sight  for  gods 
to  admire.  The  sun  glared  down  with  still  greater  intensity,  till  the  interior 
of.  the  heathen  sanctuary  glowed  like  an  oven. 

"Ere  yonder  sun  shall  reach  the  top  of  that  hemlock,  'black  coat,'  thou 
diest,"  said  the  chief,   pointing  upward. 

The  priest  followed  the  direction  indicated  by  the  long,  lean,  cruel  hand, 
with  finger  pointing,  and  saw  that  not  more  than  five  minutes  would  elapse 
ere  the  top  of  the  tree  would  shade  the  orb. 

"Chief,"  said  the  priest,  turning  to  the  Objibvva,  "thou  hast  often  been 
dared  to  deadly  strife,  and  hast  dared  others  to  the  same.  1  am  a  poor,  weak, 
unarmed  man,  and  thou  a  mighty  warrior,  and  still  I  will  dare  thee."     , 

"  To  what  combat,  '  black  coat '?  "  asked  the  chief  with  a  sneer. 

"To  a  battle  between  my  God  and  thine.  If  the  God  I  serve  can  conquer 
thy  god,  thou  wilt  agree  to  spare  our  lives,  and  become,  thou  and  thy  warriors, 
Christians.  If.  on  the  contrar\'.  thy  god  shall  overcome  mine,  then  shall  our 
lives  be  at  th\-  disposal.     Dare  thou?" 

"A  battle  of  gods  would  certainly  be  a  strange  thing:  but  how  are  they 
to  fight?";    ,,.,.:    ,^_     ,  ,     , 

"  If  the  God  I  serve  shall  send  down  fire  from  heaven  and  destroy  thy 
god  yonder,  so  that  your  Manitoii  be  consumed  to  ashes,  will  you  spare  us, 
and  hecdme  a  Christian?" 


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OVER    THE   CANADIA.V  PACIFIC  RAILROAD. 


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"I  will,  if  I  see  the  fire  come  and  burn  the  sacred  totem  of  the  Objibwas 
yonder.  But  there  must  be  no  white  man's  tricks.  It  must  be  fire  from 
yonder  cloudless  sky,"   replied  the  chief 

"  I  have  no  fire  near  me,  chief,  but  my  God  in  answer  to  my  call  will  send 
His  fire  to  consume  your  idol,  and  if  I  prevent  it  not  will  also  destroy  thee  and 
thy  warriors." 

"That  I  will  better  believe,  old  Joss-a-keed  [  nedicine  man],  when  1  see 
the  sacred  totem  burning,  and  not  sooner.     I  heed  not  woman's  words." 

"  Do  you  accept  these  terms,  chief?  " 

"I  do!  "  replied  the  chief,  confidently. 

"Warriors  of  the  Objibwas,  you  are  witnesses  to  this.  Will  you  swear 
by  your  totem  to  faithfully  do  as  you  have  heard  promised  by  your  chief?  " 
asked  the   priest,  turning  to  the  warriors. 

"  We  all  do  !  "  replied  the  Objibwas. 

"Then  to  this,  chief,  you  also  add  pardon  for  your  daughter?  " 

"Yes;    show  us  your  great  medicine,  you  old  witch  doctor." 

"  And  permission  for  the  black  fathers  and  the  white  traders  to  preach 
and  trade  with  your  nation   is  by  you   to  be  freely  granted?" 

"I  do !  Let  the  fire  from  your  Great  Spirit  come  and  save  you,  for  our 
knives  are  thirsty  for  blood,"  cried   Waboegonas,   impatiently. 

"  In  the  name  of  Heaven,  what  do  you  propose  doing,  father?  Cannot  you 
see  the   murcU-rers   are   mocking  you?"    asked   DuLuth,   excitedly. 

"  It  is  in  the  name  of  Heaven  I  act,  my  son,  and  may  Heaven  forgive  the 
sin,  if  sin  there  be,  in  what  I  am  about  to  do ;  but  the  end  fully  justifies  the 
means  we  use.  Now,  chief,  draw  near  and  behold;  there  is  no  imposition 
practised.     Oh  for  the  all-powerful  faith  in  God  held  by  Elijah  on  Carmel !  " 

The  chief  drew  closer  to  the  image  with  evident  reluctance,  and  near  by 
him  stood  the  priest.  The  warriors  in  a  huddled  group  looked  on  with  awed 
interest,  while  DuLuth,  leaning  upon  the  war-club,  watched  with  an.vioty  what 
was  to  happen,  of  which  he  knew  as  little  as  did  the  savages.  The  monoto- 
nous death-song  of  the  girl  still  continued,  and  the  sun's  disk  had  nearly 
reached  the  shade  of  the  hemlock. 

"  In  the  name  of  Jehovah.  I  command  fire  to  come  down  and  destroy  this 
heathen  idol !  "  shouted  the  priest  in  Chippewa,  at  the  same  time  extending 
the  crucifix  over  the  mass  of  feathers,  grasses,  and  bark,  already  intensely 
heated  by  the  sun's  vertical  rays.  A  bright,  fluttering  spot  seemed  to  dance 
for  a  moment  on  the  breast  of  the  idol  and  finally  remain  perfectly  still.  In 
a  few  seconds  more  the  chief  .started  back  amazed  at  beholding  a  thin  column 
of  blue  vapor  ascending,  which  almost  immediately  burst  into  a  bright  flame. 


;^i. 


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..^.^... --....  ■■J--^'I'Aj.. 


Sii'iii''3!'iWi'W!lin 


138 


ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS  IN  THE   GREAT  NORTHWEST. 


Astounded,  the  Indians  beheld  the  strange  phenomenon,  which,  owing  to 
the  inflammable  nature  of  the  material  of  wliich  the  idol  was  composed, 
became  in  a  few  seconds  more  a  mass  of  fierce  flames,  and  with  a  shout, 
"The  white  man's  God  has  won!"  all  —  with  the  chief  included — fell  pros- 
trate to  the  earth  and  hid  their  faces  in  amazed  terror. 

So  thoroughly  surprised 
was  DuLuth  at  witnessing  this 
seemingly  wonderful  interpo- 
sition of  Heaven  in  their  be- 
half, that  he  too  fell  upon 
his  knees  and  strove  to  recall 
the  long-forgotten  prayers  of 
his  youth. 


■' 


A    BRANCH    OF   THE   ST.    LAWRKNCE. 


It  only  required  a  few  moments  to  reduce  the  idol  to  a  charred  billet  of 
smoking  wood,  and  the  deed  was  done  ! 

"Arise,  chief,  and  behold  the  power  of  my  God,"  cried  the  priest,  his 
countenance  beaming  with  exultation.  Trembling  in  every  limb  and  thoroughly 
conquered,  the  chief  arose,  and  gazed  affrighted  at  the  smoking  cinder  that 
had  been  his  invincible  god. 


Ol'EK    THE   CANADIAN  I'ACIFIC  RAILROAD. 


139 


m 


"Will  the  mighty  black  medicine  spare  VVaboegonas?"  he  timidly  asked, 
thoroughly  subdued. 

"  Yes,  chief,  provided  you  submit  to  be  here  baptized  a  Christian,  no  harm 
shall  reach  you.  But  you  and  your  warriors  must  carry  out  the  agreement 
entered  into." 

"  We  will,  great  Joss-a-kecd  ;  thou  canst  do  what  may  please  thee  best,  only 
bring  no  more  fire  from  the  Great  Spirit,"  pleaded  Waboegonas. 

It  was  a  strange  sight  to  behold  these  wild  savages,  thoroughly  tamed  by 
superstitious  fear,  kneeling  around  the  priest,  with  their  weapons  deposited  at 
his  feet.  The  Jesuit  looked  like  one  transfigured,  as  he  stood  telling  the  story 
of  Christianity  in  fluent  Chippewa,  till  at  last,  gathering  water  in  his  hands 
from  the  brook,  he  administered  the  rite  of  baptism  to  each,  beginning  with 
the  chief,  all  submitting  in  passive  subjugation. 

It  was  a  wonderful  triumph  for  the  Cross  over  the  scalping-knife ! 

Poor  Wancna,  momentarily  exjjecting  the  death-blow  from  the  cruel  war- 
club  of  her  father,  had  sat  crouching,  with  her  head  enveloped  in  her  mantle, 
crooning  her  song  of  death.  She  was  perfectly  oblivious  of  all  else  transpir- 
ing, till  the  terrified  shout  from  the  Indians  caused  her  to  look  up.  It  was 
an  awful  sight  which  met  her  view.  The  totem  was  .one  mass  of  ashes, 
through  which  glowed  the  horrible  visage  of  the  idol.  For  the  first  and 
last  time  in  the  life  of  Wanena  she  fell  into  a  deep  swoon,  and  so  remained 
till  DuLuth  raised  her  up,  when  with  grief  he  to  )k  it  for  granted  she  was 
dead. 

As  for  him,  a  thousand  conflicting  emotions  were  coursing  through  his 
mind.  His  astonishment  was  fully  as  great  as  that  of  the  savages,  and  so 
remained  till  he  could  whisper  to  the  Jesuit  in  French  :  "  Tell  me,  father,  did 
the  Almighty  actually  send  fire  from  hea\en  in  answer  to  your  prayers?  " 

"Alas!  for  my  faith,  my  son,  it  was  not  so;  but  the  seeming  miracle  had 
its  origin  in  very  simple  and  natural  causes.  This  little  burning-glass,  which 
I  affixed  to  the  crucifix  and  gathered  a  focus  of  the  sun's  rays  by  it  directly 
upon  the  idol,  was  the  instrumentality  in  God's  hands  in  saving  us;  but  the  end 
justified  the  means  used." 

"  Well,  father,  in  view  of  the  result  obtained,  we  will  not  stop  to  discuss  or 
criticise  the  questionable  theology ;  but  our  thanks  are  due  to  Hea\en  that  you 
were  permitted  to  keep  the  glass  when  I  had  lost  my  pistols  and  rifle." 

"  Which  teaches  u.''.,  my  son,  that  it  is  not  by  might  and  power,  but  by 
God's  spirit,  men  are  saved,  both  in  this  and  the  world  to  come.  Hut  see 
yonder  to  the  Indian  maid.     Can  she  be  sl<^eping?" 

DuLuth,   as    related,    found    poor    Wanena    in    an    unconscioiis    condit  r.n. 


>.; 


111' 


-,'.:  £ 


'Mi 


1 


I 


140 


ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS  IN  THE  GREAT  NORTI/iVEST. 


I  -^  I 


VI 


ii 


1 1*    V 


A  little  water,  however,  sufficed  to  restore  her,  when  she  cking  in  frantic  fear 
to  DuLuth,  who  found  new  emotions  surging  in  his  bosom  as  the  pretty 
maiden  nestled  in  his  arms.  Soothing'  her  with  kind,  endearing  words,  he  led 
her  in  fear  and  trembling  to  the  presence  of  her  dread  father,  and  said : 
'"  Waboegonas,  now  that  all  is  peace  between  us,  I  have  a  favor  to  ask.  Let 
this  little  hand  I  hold  belong  to  me,  if  its  beautiful  owner  will  consent.  What 
liay  you,  Wanena, — can  you  become  the  white  trader's  bride?" 

"  Wanena  has  risked  her  life  for  the  chief  she  loves,  and  joy  would  fill  her 
heart  to  be  taken  to  his  lodge,"  said  the  happy  girl,  nestling  still  closer  to  the 
'  trader. 

"  What  says  the  great  chief  to  this?  "  asked  DuLuth. 

"  That  my  best-beloved  daughter  is  yours,  white  chief,  especially  as  you 
promise  to  make  her  your  wife.  The  mother  who  bore  me  gave  her  life  for 
a  false  lover, —  my  father,  and  thus  left  me  as  a  curse  to  all  pale-faces. 
Wanena  has  the  spirit  of  ni}'  mother,  and  will  be  a  true  wife  to  you.  I  am 
rich  in  lands  and  furs.  Ten  thousand  warriors  will  reply  when  Waboegonas 
shouts  his  war-whoop,  and  his  daughter  will  not  go  to  the  lodge  of  the  white 
chief  with  empty  hands.  Take  her,  chief,  and  may  her  fate  be  happier  than 
that  of  her  mother  —  or  of  mine.     I   have  spoken." 

"  Chief,  doubtless  you  have  suffered,  but  all  things  come  to  an  end  ;  so 
with  your  suffering  and  revenge.  In  my  mating  lawfully  vvith  your  daughter 
a  new  era  opens  up  for  you  and  your  people,  and  I  and  the  good  father  here 
will  do  all  we  may  to  elevate  and  instruct  the  Objibwas." 

"  Son,  said  I  not,  '  Stand  still  and  behold  the  glory  of  God  '?  Are  not  these 
hands  still  wet  with  the  water  of  holy  baptism?" 

"  True,  father;  and  now  let  the  holy  sacrament  of  marriage  follow  upon  the 
heels  of  the  other.     Make  this  maid  my  lawful  wife." 

"  Gladly,  my  son,  gladly ;  but  first  let  nie  here  receive  her  by  baptism  into 
tile  bosom  of  Mother  Church  ;  "  and  kneeling  by  the  little  brook  in  the  despoiled 
sanctuary  of  the  heathen,  the  first  Objibwa  woman  received  Christian  baptism, 
after  which  the  words  were  spoken  which  made  her  the  loving  wife  of  Greysolon 
DuLuth.  The  Indians,  now  assured  that  no  fire  would  consume  them,  looked 
upon  all  this  with  much  interest,  and  in  the  case  of  Waboegonas  it  was  wonder- 
ful how  the  look  of  his  countenance  had  softened  and  lumianizcd.  The  change 
effected  in  him  was  real. 

"  If  the  white  chief  and  black  father  are  read\-.  we  must  cross  quickl)-  to 
Pawating,"  said  the  chief.  "  Otonogas  is  there  with  many  warriors,  and  the 
battle  may  even  now  be  fought." 

"  Mercifiil  Heaven  !  "  cried  the  priest,  "  and  we  lingering  here  !     Let  us  at 


OVER    run    CAAADJA.y  PACIFIC  RAILROAD. 


141 


once  seek  to  stop  the  slaughter.     Away,  chief,  and  prove  th\-  new  faith  by  thy 
works  of  mercy." 

The  two  war  canoes  which  had  borne  the  men  who  came  to  slay  but 
.stayed  to  pray,  sufficed  to  bear  the  e.xtra  passengers  ;  and  driven  by  stalwart 
arms  the  light  barks  flew  over  the  lake  till  they  arrived  at  Sault  Ste.  Marie. 
They  were  none  too  soon,  as  Otonogas  had  his  men  ready  to  attack  the 
Chippewas  that  very  night.  The  latter  were  just  as  eager  for  the  fray,  and  a 
few  hours  later  would  have  witnessed  a  perfect  slaughter. 

■■ — ^ "^ 


AN  ISLAND  m  THE  LAKE  OF  THE  WOODS. 

l?ut  the  arrival  of  Marquette,  DuLuth,  and  the  great  Objibwa  chief  placed 
matters  in  an  entirely  dififerent  attitude.  Waboegonas  had  but  few  words  to 
sa}-,  though  they  were  to  the  point.  There  would  be  no  war  ;  the  mission- 
aries and  white  traders  were  to  enter  and  dwell  where  they  pleased  among  the 
Objibwas  ;  the  worship  of  the  Manitou  was  to  be  in  the  future  dispensed  with, 
and  the  God  of  the  black  father  was  to  take  his  place  henceforth  in  Indian 
theology. 


'■  (.» 

^; 

!-ti! 

\-: 

■J 

'.  1 

;     ■  || 

"if 

■  '  '% 

■  '|l 

I   ,U:  \ 

i:* 

\4 

^.,jpil^l^>gii!ii>i»iwiiw,piiwiwh^]w*f«  m»m»fmmmmmm? 


,^    _.  .  ,_N     ^    «. 


[42 


ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS  IN  THE  GREAT  NORTHWEST. 


It  was  a  time  of  surprises  all  around.  None  was  greater  than  that  of  the 
coureurs  dc  bois  when  DuLuth  uitrocluccd  his  Indian  bride,  who  was  received 
with  all  the  honors. 

The  work  of  Pere  Marquette  was  very  much  aided  and  simplified  by  tiie 
story  told  far  and  near  of  the  scene  on  Holy  Island.  His  preachin<j  was 
received  with  tenfold  more  favor,  and  the  rivalry  of  the  Joss-a-keeds,  or 
medicine  men,  of  the  tribes  ..^ccived  a  serious  set-back.  Churches  were  estab- 
lished from  Mackinac  to  Oulutli,  and  far  into  the  interior,  while  the  name  of 
the  beloved  missionary  was  to  the  Indians  ever  the  synonym  for  all  true,  good, 
and  brave,  till  three  years  later,  aged  but  thirty-eight  years,  he  died. 

Greysolon  DuLuth  is  a  character  in  history;  and  here  it  need  only  be  said 
that  he  lived  long  and  happy  with  his  devoted,  heroic  Indian  wife,  who  bore 
him  brave  sons  and  fair  daughters.  His  name  is  perpetuated  in  that  of  the 
beautiful  city  at  the  head  of  Lake  Superior,  where  can  still  be  found  those  who 
boast  descent  from  him  and  his  beautiful  bride. 


;:   U\ 


CHAPTER   VII. 


A   THOUSAND    MILES   TO   THE    AiOuNTAINS. 


^HE  Rocky  Mountains  are  now  one  thousand  miles  away, 
over  a  level  of  green  prairies,  or  steppes,  that  rise  so 
gradually  that  the  ascent  is  not  noticed ;  over  the 
Buffalo  plains,  where  only  the  bones  of  the  buffalo  are 
left  to  remind  one  of  the  wild  empire  of  gigantic  ani- 
mals;  over  seas  of  snow  in  winter  and  seas  of  bloom  in  summer,  the 
home  of  the  fox,  the  coyote,  the  prairie-dog,  the  nesting-places  of  the 
grouse  and  the  prairie-hen. 

The  names  of  the  places  and  railroad  towns  along  the  way  them- 
selves describe  the  journey,  —  as  Meaxlows,  Poplar  Point,  High  Bluff, 
Portage  la  Prairie  (on  the  Assiniboine   River). 

The  towns,  or  railroad  stations,  occur  at  intervals  of  less  than  ten 
miles  ;  as  a  rule  they  contain  from  about  one  hundred  to  one  thou- 
sand inhabitants.  Brandon,  the  o-reat  grain-market,  at  an  altitude 
of  some  eleven  hundred  feet,  has  forty-five  hundred  inhabitants,  or 
more.  The  town  is  less  than  ten  years  old,  and  yet  it  is  already 
beautiful. 

Near  Fleming,  the  province  of  Assiniboia  is  entered.  —  a  name  as 
full  of  music  as  that  of  the  river  from  which  it  is  formed.  Here  and 
there  are  ponds,  and  colonies  of  water-fowl.  At  Broadview  the  Cree 
Indians  begin  to  surround  the  stopping  train.  The  prairie  now  rises 
rapidly  until  Qu'Appelle  is  reached,  at  an  altitude  of  two  thousand 
feet,  some  seventeen  hundred  and  fiftv  miles  from   Montreal. 


W 


.  :i 


144 


ZIGZAG  JOURNEy:^  JA'   THE  GREAT  AORTHWEST. 


Regina,  the  capital  of  Assiniboia,  has  a  population  of  more  than 
two  thousand.  Near  the  railroad  station  is  the  governor's  residence, 
and  the  headquarters  of  the  Northwestern  mounted  police.  At  every 
stopping  of  the  train  picturesque  cavaliers  and  blanketed  Indians 
appear.  The  latter  have  polished  buffalo-horns  to  sell.  At  some  of 
the  stations  are  bright  liower-gardens  in  summer,  and  chained  bears. 


f,  ,;"j;":  r*!.-- •-        „.-r  [".  tr-i : 


SS- 


A    PKAIKIF.    STATION. 


Moosejaw,  a  busy  market-town,  has  a  curious  name.  The  Indians 
call  it  The-creek-where-the-white-man-mended-the-cart-with-a-moose-jaw- 
bone. 

The  name  contains  the  early  history  of  the  town.  The  white  set- 
tlers abridged  the  name  to  Moosejaw,  which  unpoetic  name  the  town 
seems  destined  to  bear. 

Next  come  the  Old  Wives'  Lakes,  alkaline,  with  no  outlet,  and 
surrounded  by  the  wallows  of  the  once  long  processions  of  buffaloes. 
At  Medicine    Hat,  so  called  because  it  was  the  head  of  medical  sup- 


n 


CITY    HALL.    \V...N1PEG. 


it 
^1 


'    '^  ujii 

i  «as%i 

l|S 

1  ^ 

■ » 

'  ^'  1 

**    '  1 

il'ii 

IKfil 

•.  1  'ail  ■' 


\"':^"^  ;    ^  ■■■•  ^.  >.■■■•■    ■ 


A    THOUSAND  MILES    TO    THE  MOUNTALXS. 


147 


plies  for  the  .'ndians  in  early  days,  Cree  Indians  and  mounted  poliee 
are  again  objfxts  of  interest.  At  Calgary,  2264  miles  from  Montreal, 
the  Roeky  Mountains  come  into  view.  Calgary  is  the  first  step  on 
the  immediate  way  to  the  regions  of  the  sky. 

Calgary  is  beautiful.  Hills  surround  it,  and  white  peaks  look  down 
upon  it.  Here  Indians  mingle  so  freely  with  the  people  that  time 
seems  to  have  been  set  back  a  hundred  years.  We  are  in  the  land 
of  the  red  men.  Ranches  and  great  herds  are  here,  foot-hills  and  ter- 
races, and  the  green  waters  of  the  Bow  River. 

We  are  now  at  an  altitude  of  more  than  four  thousand  feet.  Sud- 
denly the  high  mountain-walls  appear  in  purple,  silver,  and  gold.  We 
are  at  the  Gap  The  snows  are  over  us  even  in  midsummer.  The 
air  grows  keen ;  two  peaks  rise  to  the  sky  like  the  posts  of  giant-land  ; 
The  whistle  screams ;  we  e  ter.  We  are  now  among  the  chimneys 
of  the  Carboniferous  ages,  going  up,  :ip,  up,  among  tlic  glaciers,  and 
through  the  rents  and  ruins  of  stu|)e!i  lous  heights  whose  history  have 
long  passed  the  memory  of  men.  Castellated  heig  its  rise  over  broken 
walls;  there  is  Wind  Mountain,  here  the  Three  Sisters.  Here  are 
mountains  on  edge ;  there  towers  stately  and  solid  rise  from  eter- 
nal bases ;  everywhere  are  dark  forests,  cascades,  and  clear-water 
streams. 

Look  into  the  distance  among  the  clouds.  A  great  mountain  is 
hurrying  to  meet  us,  so  it  seems.  It  is  miles  away,  but  it  approaches 
and  hangs  its  crystal  fountains  over  us.  How  it  divides  the  sky  I 
How  majestic  it  marches  through  the  blue  air!  It  is  Cascade 
Mountain. 


Where.''     In   the  Rocky  Mountain   Park,  or,  as  it  is  now  kno 


wn. 


the  Canadian  National  Park,  or  Panff,  or  Banff  Hot  Si)rings.  Banff 
is  the  Lucerne  of  the  American  Alps;  it  will  one  day  be  the  American 
Baden-Baden  as  well.  Here  is  the  future  pleasure-ground  and  sani- 
tarium of  Canada,  of  England,  of  the  new  cities  rising  and  enlarging 
on  Puget  Sound.     Banff  is  a  plateau  amid  granite-like  towers  that  rise 


Mil 
i 


! 


)\ 


148 


ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS  IN  THE   GREAT  NORTHWEST, 


like  unconfused  Babels,  and  of  stairways  to  the  sky.  Heaven  and 
earth  tliere  meet,  and  over  the  emerald  waters  0£  the  Bow  one  seems 
to  drift  in  the  regions  of  the  sky. 

The  Cascade  Mountain  is  some  ten  thousand  feet  high.  It  has 
met  us.  The  train  slows.  A  lovely  village  is  near  us.  Under  the 
green  forests  of  Sulphur  Mountain  carriages  sweep  down  from  large 


RAFTINf;:    BREAKING   A   GLUT. 


hotels.  Mounted  police  again  appear.  Well-to-do-looking  people  are 
waiting  at  the  station.  There  is  animation  and  biiL^ht  looks  evcrv- 
where.  Yet  all  seems  strange,  as  though  we  were  out  of  the  world. 
We  are  in  the  high  altitudes  now.  Mountains  foam  with  cascades, 
glaciers  glisten,  the  Bow  runs  clear  with  glacier  water.  One  feels  light 
and  happy,  as  though  a  great  j)rcssurc  had  been  lifted.  The  sky 
.is  a  living  splendor.     We  are  at  Banff. 

There    was  one   little  animal   that  greatly   amused  our   travellers 


I 


re 
y- 
Id. 

cs, 
;ht 
ky 

jrs. 


A    THOUSAND  MILES   TO    THE  MOUNTAIAS. 


149 


at  two  points  on  the  way  ;  it  was  tiie  coyote.  Foxes  were  often  seeti 
in  the  morning  hours,  running  away  from  the  coming  train.  Prairie- 
dogs  were  met  everywhere  on  the  plains.  They  were  too  well  accus- 
tomed to  living  near  the  track  to  be  frightened.  The  coyote,  or  little 
wolf,  most  interested  the  passengers,  and  a  story  was  related  by  an 
American  traveller  which  well  illustrates  the  habits  of  this  cunning 
animal.  We  give  it  here  in  the  story-telling  form  of  the  newspaper 
or  magazine,  with  some  expansion  for  the  sake  of  greater  interest. 


"  WOLVES !   WOLVES  !  " 

OR,  THE   ROGUISH   LITTLE  COYOTE. 

"  '  C-o-y-o-t-e.'     Audley,  what  does  that  spell?  " 

"  Coyote,"  I  said.     "  I  think  it  is  a  Mexican  word." 

"  And  what  is  a  coyote,  Audley?  " 

"  A  kind  of  wolf,  I  think;    is  it  not?" 

"  A  wolf,  a  wolf!  "  Aunt  North  adjusted  her  spectacles,  and  then  exclaimed 
again,  "  A  wolf?     Audley,  what  do  you  think  I  am  reading?  " 

"  I  do  not  know,  Aunt;   a  letter?  " 

"  A  letter  from  Elmer.  Listen.  '  One  night  the  cunning  coyotes  carried 
away  our  pies,  stole  them  out  of  our  closet  through  the  open  window,  and  we 
found  the  empty  plates  among  the  sage-bushes.'  " 

Elmer  lived  in  New  Mexico.  He  was  Aunt  North's  nephew.  His  father 
and  mother  died  in  his  boyhood,  and  Aunt  North  had  given  him  a  home  and 
an  education.  She  had  offered  the  boy  a  home  from  the  principles  of  duty  and 
charit)'.  But  Elmer  had  a  quick  wit.  a  loving  nature,  and  very  attractive  man- 
ners, and  she  came  to  love  him.  She  seemed  to  think  of  him  all  the  time.  At 
last,  he  was  the  world  to  her.  Her  affection  spoiled  him.  She  sent  him  to 
college,  and  liberally  supplied  him  with  money.  His  money  and  his  generous, 
affectionate  nature  made  him  very  popular  among  the  students;  his  easy  social 
life  led  to  dissipation ;  he  was  expe'led  from  the  college,  and  he  returned  to 
Aunt  North  in  disgrace. 

"  Elmer,"  said  the  good  lady,  "  you  have  done  wrong,  but  I  stand  in  your 
dead  mother's  place,  and  will  forgive  you.  No  mother  ever  turned  against 
her  son." 


1  M 


m 


::  I 


I 
111; 


:|: 


150 


ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS  IN   THE  GREAT  NORTHWEST. 


fi 


Aunt  North  was  a  maiden  lady.  She  was  rich,  according  to  town  estimate. 
Her  father  and  grandfather  had  "  traded  at  sea,"  to  use  the  local  designation 
of  an  old-time  commercial  life.  She  had  inherited  a  good  estate,  kept  it,  and 
increased  it.  She  had  had  but  one  weakness  in  a  long  life,  —  it  was  for  Elmer. 
Her  affection  for  him  became  so  strong  that  she  seemed  blind  to  his  faults.  The 
tempter  was  always  wholly  to  blame  in  her  eyes  when  Klmer  did  wrong.  When 
she  said  to  him,  on  his  disgrace,  "  I  will  forgive  you,"  he  had  replied,  "  You  are 
like  a  mother.  Aunt,"  and  had  kissed  her. 

"  Like  a  mother."  The  words  were  golden  to  Aunt  North,  and  they 
turned  into  actual  gold  to  Elmer.  Aunt  North  "  set  him  up  in  business," 
for  these  pretty  words  and  the  kiss,  people  said.  He  failed  in  something 
less  than  a  year.  But  Aunt  North  only  said,  "  The  poor  boy  is  very  unfor- 
tunate, and  I  stand  in  his  mother's  stead,  and  pity  him."  Among  his  mis- 
fortunes there  came  another  to  him;  he  fell  in  love  with  a  young  woman 
of  a  pretty  face,  but  without  good  sense,  —  "not  facalized,"  the  neighbors 
said,  —  and  one  day  this  unpromising  couple  disappeared  from  the  place,  the 
former  taking  with  him  his  credit,  .s'  money.  Where  the  handsome  couple 
had  gone  no  one  knew,  and  no  Oiie  but  Aunt  North  and  Elmer's  creditors 
cared  to  know. 

Aunt  North  paid  his  debts.     She  "  stood  in  his  mother's  stead." 

"  I  cannot  give  up  Elmer,"  she  said.  "  '  Charity  sufifereth  long  and  is  kind, 
endureth  all  things,  hopeth  all  things,  thinketh  no  evil.' "  Aunt  North  liked 
to  quote  this  Scripture.  "  I  was  not  strict  enough  with  the  motherless  boy, 
but  I  meant  well ;  I  shall  never  give  him  up.  We  help  people  by  believing 
in  them  and  hoping  good  of  them.  I  shall  still  love,  believe,  and  hope.  He 
has  a  heart,  after  all.  I  shall  live  to  see  a  change  in  him ;  I  feel  it  in  my 
bones."  Aunt  North,  like  other  good  people  of  her  town,  believed  "  her  bones" 
to  be  prophetic. 

By  "a  heart"  people  thought  that  Aunt  North  merely  designated  that 
poetic  superficial  affection  that  expresses  itself  in  tender  words  and  pleasing 
familiarities.  She  was  a  lonel}'  woman ;  no  one  had  told  her  that  any  one  loved 
her  but  Elmer;  no  lips  had  kissed  her  cheek  but  Elmer's;  no  companionship 
had  ever  been  like  IClmer's ;  for  years  Elmer's  development  and  education  had 
been  all  her  thought  and  life. 

After  his  disappearance  she  seemed  to  brood  upon  his  memory,  and 
the  happy  years  they  had  passed  together.  The  townspeople  called  him 
a  "  scapegrace,"  and  blamed  her  for  her  fond  attachment  to  him,  and  she 
came  to  care  nothing  for  society  in  which  her  heart's  idol  was  only 
condemned. 


I  1 : 


^^■' 


di 


ill 


nil 


A    THOUSAND  MILES   TO    THE  MOUNTAINS. 


153 


Where  had  he  gone?  Would  he  ever  write  to  her?  Did  he  remember  her 
with  love? 

Years  passed,  when  one  day  there  came  to  her  a  letter  from  New  Mexico. 
It  was  from  Elmer.  He  was  living  on  a  ranch  in  the  Organ  Mountains. 
He  begged  her  forgiveness  for  the  "  youthful  mistakes  "  that  he  had  made, 
and  filled  a  page  with  loving  memories  which  he  felt  reasonably  sure  his 
fond  aunt  would  fill  out  and  indorse  like  a  check.  Aunt  North  read  the 
letter  a  hundred  times,  and  always  ended  it  with,  "  My  own  dear  boy,  I 
always  believed  in  him." 

One  day  she  read  it  to  Judge  Holden,  who  had  the  care  of  her  estate. 

"  Miss  North,"  said  the  judge,  "  let  me  advise  you.  Do  not  answer  that 
letter  at  all.  There  will  come  another  soon,  asking  for  money.  Wait  and  see. 
You  will  not  answer  it,  will  you  ?  " 

Aunt  North  was  silent.  The  prophecy  of  her  *'  bones  "  was  very  active 
just  now  in  her  mind. 

•'  Not  till  I  get  another,"  she  at  last  said  hopefully.  "  I  '11  wait  until  I 
hear  from  Elmer  again." 

"You  will  hear  from  him  again  coon  enough,"  said  the  judge.  "That 
letter  is  only  a  feeler.  He  knows  how ;  don't  you  ever  be  befooled  by  such  a 
scatter-brains  as  he  again.  Now,  I  warn  you.  I  know  women ;  and  women 
are  women !     When  they  lose  their  hearts  they  lose  their  heads." 

"  Oh,  judge,  we  used  to  be  so  happy  oner  ;   and  —  " 

"  And  what?     I  should  think  it  was  '■  and ' !  " 

"  And  '  charity,'  you  know." 

"  No,  Miss  North,  you  stick  to  Audley  here ;  he 's  got  some  moral  principle 
and  common  sense.  So  Elmer  's  found  something  to  do  in  New  Mexico ;  let 
him  do  it.  Don't  you  go  to  sending  him  money;  keep  your  money  for 
Audley.     He'll  know  how  to  take  care  of  it." 

During  the  last  year  Aunt  had  become  an  invalid.  Her  disease  was  a 
peculiar  kind  of  rheumatism,  that  had  affected  and  stiffened  her  joints ;  "  acidity 
of  the  blood,"  one  of  her  many  doctors  had  termed  it.  She  had  been  obliged 
to  use  a  crutch,  or  thought  that  she  had,  from  the  first  development  of  the 
disease ;  of  late  she  had  used  two  dutches,  and  hardly  took  a  step  without  a 
halt  and  a  sigh. 

So  she  sat  in  her  arm-chair  day  by  day,  and  her  mind  seemed  to  Lc  .'ar 
away  among  the  Organ  Mountains,  and  the  coyotes  also  seemed  to  be  very 
active  in  her  imagination. 

"You  said,  Audley,  that  a  coyote  was  a  wolf  ?  " 

"  Yes,  the  American  jackal." 


^^" 


! 

f^ 

i 

;: 

j 

li 

l..f 

'1 

fl 

154 


ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS  h\  TUB  GREAT  NORTHWEST. 


" /\  jackal!"  Her  cap-border  rose  like  \viii<^s.  "  01>,  y\udlc\-,  I've  read 
about  them  in  the  missionary  magazines.     They  rob  the  dead." 

Here  was  an  evolved  view  to  the  terrible  coyote. 

"  How  would  you  like  to  live  in  New  Mexico.  i\udley,  amonj^  tlie  wolves 
and  the  jackals?  " 

"  I  should  hate  to  have  them  eat  up  my  pies,"  said  I. 

"  Pies  !  "  exclaimed  my  aunt.  "  Oh,  Audley,  you  have  none  of  those  finer 
sentiments  that  Elmer  used  to  have!"  < 

Another  letter  came  from  Elmer.  It  described  a  sunrise  in  the  Organ 
Mountains.  It  was  a  glowing  letter,  full,  of  poetic  thoughts  and  images. 
The  sun  was  described  as  rising  behind  enormous  pillars  of  earth,  that  lifted 
themselves  to  the  heavens  like  organ-pipes.  The  air  v/as  a  "  crystal  sea,"  and 
in  these  "  gardens  of  the  gods  "  and  "  resplendent  atmospheres  "  "  all  diseases 
of  mind  and  body,  in  most  cases,  utterly  disappeared  " 

Aunt  North's  imagination  kindled.  If  she  could  only  go  to  this  land 
of  n;iagical  healings  and  enchantments,  her  old  days  of  health  and  happiness 
might  return  to  her. 

She  read  the  letter  to  Judge  Holden. 

"  Harden  your  heart,  harden  your  heart,  and  don't  lose  your  head,"  said 
the  judge.  "  He  knows  what  he's  about.  People  die  in  the  Organ  Mountains. 
I  never  heard  of  a  Mexican  greaser  that  lived  forever." 

Elmer's  next  letter  described  a  moonrise  in  the  Organ  Mountains.  It 
affected  Aunt  as  Byron  on  Lake  Leman  might  have  enchanted  a  school-girl. 
She  read  the  Aladdin-like  description  aloud  to  me.  Toward  the  close  of 
the  letter  her  voice  faltered,  and  she  ceased  reading.  Her  eyes  filled  with 
tears. 

"  I  always  knew  it,"  she  said. 

"What?"  I  asked.  , 

"  That  Elmer  loved  me.     Listen !  " 

She  read,  her  hands  trembling  with  emotion:  "  '  A  little  girl  has  been  born 
to  us;    I  shall  name  her  Mary  North,  for  you,  dear  Aunt.'  " 

She  put  the  letter  over  her  face  and  cried  like  a  little  child.  Then  her  tears 
ceased :   a  light  of  hope  came  into  her  beautiful  face. 

"  Audley,  I  used  to  be  so  happy!  " 
.       "Yes;  well?" 

"  Do  you  not  think,  Audley,  that  you  and  I  could  go  to  the  Organ 
Mountains,  if  we  engaged  a  palace  car  all  to  ourselves?  " 

"  But  you  are  a  crip —     You  cannot  walk.  Aunt." 

"  Yes,  I  know;   but  we  would  have  a  car  all  to  ourselves,  Audley." 


'^1 


]  1 


1     'f 


^rn^'x  """"i^ 


A    THOUSAND   MILES   JO    lUE  MuLAJaIAS. 


^57 


"  But  think  what  it  would  cost,  Aunt." 

"  Yes,  1  know;  but  I  Ikivc  spent  little  money  on  mjself  since  Elmer  went 
away.  I  am  not  poor,  Autllcy,  —  not  very  poor.  The  trip  mii^ht  cure  me;  my 
bones  seem  to  say  so.  The  air  of  New  Mexico  is  wonderful,  lOlnicr  says. 
Don't  mention  to  any  one  what  I  have  said.  Judge  1-lolden  would  want  a 
'  gardeen  '  appointed  over  me  if  he  knew  that  I  dreamed  of  such  a  journey." 

There  gradually  came  a  far-away  look  into  Aunt's  faee.  Her  life  became 
a  dream.     Her  "  bones  "  were  full  of  prophecy. 

"  Next  month  is  Thanksgiving,  Audley." 

"  Yes." 

"  I  wish  that  we  could  go  and  visit  Elmer,  and  see  his  little  girl,  and  give 
him  a  surprise  ;  that  would  be  something  to  be  thankful  for.  1  have  alwaj-s 
thought  that  Thanksgiving  Day  should  be  one  of  family  reconciliations.  If  I 
were  a  governor,  Audlcx-,  I  would  put  that  in  my  Proclamation;  f  would  ask 
every  family  to  make  the  day  one  of  reconciliation.  That  would  be  something 
to  be  thankful  for." 

"  I  wish  that  you  were  able  to  go,  .^\unt." 

"  Audley,  when  the  mind  is  able,  the  body  commonly  is  able.  I  am 
going  to  write  to  the  agent  of  the  Southern  Pacific  about  it.  h^lmer  was  once 
as  a  son  to  me;   we  must  be  reconciled." 

One  morning  Aunt  came  into  the  room  on  her  crutches,  looking  very 
happy,  holding  a  letter  in  her  hand. 

"  Audley,"  she  said,  "  I  am  going  South,  and  I  wish  you  to  go  with 
me.  I  think  the  journey  will  do  me  good.  I  may  find  some  new  doctor 
there,  too." 

"  Where,  Aunt,  are  you  going?" 

"Well,  to  New  Orleans,  and  farther,  if  I  am  able.     It  is  all  arranged." 

"  When  are  you  to  start.  Aunt?  " 

"  We  will  start  the  week  before  Thanksgiving  week  The  dates  are  all 
arranged.  We  are  to  have  a  special  car  as  far  as  El  Paso,  —  you  and  my 
maid  and  I." 

"  El  Paso?  El  Pasc  is  not  —  is  not  anywhere  near  New  Orleans,  Aunt." 

"  Tut,  tut !  Oh,  no ;  but  I  know  where  I  am  going.  It  will  be  a  splendid 
trip  for  you,  and  it  will  get  me  out  of  the  ruts  of  life.  I  feel  that  a  change 
would  do  me  good  ;  I  feel  it  in  my  bones." 

I  was  a  lad  of  fifteen  years.  This  would  be  my  first  long  journey.  I 
hardly  knew  where  I  was  going,  but  I  knew  I  was  going  to  ¥A  Paso,  and  the 
very  name  had  the  charm  of  romance.  I  had  also  heard  Aunt  speak  of  the 
railroad  "  connection  with  the  Atchison,  Topeka,  and  Santa  Fe  route,"  which 


!  !| 


15S 


ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS  IN  THE   GREAT  NORTHWEST. 


W 


UBiH  I 


also  sounded  very  grand.  Santa  Fe,  the  oldest  town  in  America,  —  would  I 
see  that,  and  the  C)rgani).s  Mountains,  "  earth's  great  jileiit  organ,"  as  ICInier 
described  them,  "  behind  whose  golden  pipes  rise  the  sun,  and  whose  silver 
pipes  the  moon,"  and  the  coyotes,  whatever  the)-  might  be?  Aunt  seemed 
to  have  forgotten  the  coyotes,  the  "  wohes  that  ate  pies." 

Aunt  left  the   town  on    her  crutciies,   amid  the    remonstrances  of  all  her 
friends.      Every  one  believed  that  the  journey  would  somehow  end  in  a  visit 
to    Elmer,   and   every   one   thought    that    her    heart    was    better 
than  her  head. 

Away  to  Buffalo,  to  Cincinnati,  to  Chattanooga,  and  then 
away  again  from  the  great  shadow  of  Eookout  Mountain  to 
the  regions  of  the  cotton-fields ;  past  Birmingham  at  night, 
with  its  furnaces  blazing  against  the  black  sky;  over  the  long 
bridge  of  Lake  Pontchartrain,  and  into  the  old  French  city  of 
Xew  Orleans!  ilow  delightful  it  all  was  to  Aunt,  and  what 
a  geography  lesson  to  me !  I  seemed  to  live  a  week  in  a 
single   day. 

Aunt    did   not    stop   in  New   Orleans   at  all ;    she  did 
not  leave  the  car.     \\\  an  hour  after  our  arrival  we  were 

fl\ing  away  toward 


A    (iOOD    UAKVKST. 


the  green  fields   of 
Texas,    past    live- 
oaks    trailing    with 
I    moss,  and  old  plan- 
(    tations   and   quaint 

1    negro  cabins. 

i 

\  It   was    a   long 

ride  from  New  Or- 
>  leans  to  El  Paso, 
hut  we  arrived  at 
the  latter  place  one  listless  sunny  afternoon,  and  found  it  full  of  fine  hotels, 
to  one  of  which  we  were  taken.  The  town  was  alive  with  Mexican  people,  and 
the  next  morning  I  took  the  horse-car  and  crossed  the  Rio  drande,  and  visited 
the  old  church  in  El  Paso  del  Norte,  in  Mexico. 

It  was  a  region  of  brown  mountains  o*"  all  kinds  of  queer  shapes,  that  glim- 
mered in  the  clear  air  and  bright  sun,  with  tit  any  vegetation,  not  so  much  as  a 
tree.  The  charm  of  the  place  seemed  to  lie  ■•  le  brightness  of  the  air,  the  splendor 
of  the  sunlight,  and  the  barren  '[randour  of  the  castle-like  mountains.  It  seemed 
to  me  much  as  Elmer  had  described  t;..  reeion.  a  "castle  land  of  the  mants." 


^mmmams 


taiBsas^!!Bm^3S 


A    THOUSAND  MILES   TO   THE  MOUNTAINS. 


159 


Aunt  rented  but  asingl:  day;  she  seemed  impelled  to  goon.  We  found 
ourselves  on  a  palace-car  again,  this  time  on  the  ^\tchison,  Topeka,  and  Santa  Fe 
Railroad,  and  the  wonder  of  the  brown  mountains  with  their  fantastic  shapes 
grew.  A  day's  ride  brought  us  to  a  quaint  town,  seeming  more  Spanish  than 
American,  and  here  in  a  good  hotel,  half  windows  and  balconies,  our  long  rail- 
road journey  came  to  an  end,  and  Aunt  began  to  make  inquiries  about  "  one 
Elmer  North."  The  people  at  the  hotel  knew  him.  He  lived  about  fi\e 
miles  from  the  place,  and  I  engaged  a  nmle-team  to  take  us  there  the  next 
day,  at  Aunt's  direction. 

We  were  among  the  Organ  Mountains.  Ever\'thing  seemed  colossal  and 
strange.  The  world  was  pictured  in  my  mind  like  a  vast  cathedral,  and  the 
mountains  around  me  were  its  grand  organ,  silent  indeed,  but  grand. 

We  sat  on  the  upper  balcony  of  the  hotel  that  night,  and  saw  the  harvest 
moon  rise.  I  never  had  dreamed  of  anything  so  scenic  and  beautiful.  We  saw 
her  appearing,  like  a  silver  world  behind  the  stupendt-us  pillars  of  brown  earth, 
as  in  a  dream.  The  splendor  was  inconceivable  as  she  emerged  into  the  clear 
air  above  them.  The  world  seemed  changed  into  some  mighty  temple,  into 
which  the  goddess  of  night  was  descending  like  Dian,  for  the  moon  appeared 
not  to  rise,  but  to  fall.  The  town  was  still,  the  lights  few.  We  went  to 
rest  early. 

The  next  morning,  after  some  assistance.  Aunt  was  seated  in  the  mule-team. 
I  thought  it  a  hard  seat  for  her  with  her  lameness,  which  latter  I  noticed  seemed 
less  troublesome  ;  but  she  showed  great  resolution,  and  the  people  of  the  hotel 
and  the  driver  were  very  kind  to  her.  The  morning  air  was  clear  and  exhilarat- 
ing. She  left  the  little  maid  and  her  baggage  at  the  hotel  to  await  further  orders. 
I  went  with  her,  and  was  soon  lost  to  the  grand  scenery  that  tilled  the  atmos- 
phere around  me,  in  watching  the  cunning  little  prairie-dogs,  as  they  appeared 
and  disappeared  on  every  hand. 

"  You  are  sure  that  Mr.  Nortlrfs  at  home,"  said  Aunt  to  the  driver,  with 
an  expression  of  anxiety  in  her  face, 

"  Yes,  I  think  so;  he  may  have  gone  to  the  protracted  meetin',  up  to  Santa 
Fe,  —  his  wife  's  turned  Methody,  —  b  jt  I  guess  not.  They  have  a  young  chilil, 
only  a  few  months  old,  —a  little  girl.  I  guess  you  '11  find  'em  there,  but  I  can't 
be  certain.  A  woman  can't  stay  at  home  forever  in  these  mountains,  you  know ; 
it  makes  'em  go  crazy.  They'll  be  at  home  to-night,  anywa\-.  v\re  you  an\' 
particular  relation  of  theirs?" 

"  Yes,  T  'm  his  aunt." 

"  He  'II  be  proper  glad  to  see  ye,  I  reckon      Where  did  you  come  from?  " 

"  From  —  near  Hoston." 


lili 


i6o 


ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS  IN  THE   GREAT  NORTHWEST. 


"  Ah,  did  you?  So  far  away  from  everybody,  too.  I  've  hcarn  tell  of  the 
place.  It  was  where  they  fit  the  Revolutionary  War.  A  very  old  place,  I 
reckon." 

The  sun  brightened.  The  mountains  seemed  to  burn.  The  atmosphere 
became  a  calm,  living  splendor. 

**  That 's  North's  place  over  yonder,"  said  the  driver. 

A  long  white  house  appeared  amid  an  island  of  low  green  trees  and  a  gray 
border  of  vineyards. 

We  presently  met  a  tall,  lank  settler  on  horseback. 

"  Norths  at  home?  "  asked  the  driver,  abruptly. 

"  No,  I  guess  not.     He's  gone  with  his  wife  to  the  protracted  meetin'." 

"  His  men  are  at  home?  " 

"  No,  gone  to  the  cattle-show." 

"  Sho !  you  don't  say  so.  I  've  brought  down  some  company.  They  'II 
all  be  at  home  tonight,  won't  they?" 

"  Oh,  yes,  yes,  be  at  home  to-night.  Let  his  company  stay  until  they  come 
home.     'T  will  give  'em  a  chance  to  look  around  a  little." 

Aunt  looked  troubled. 

We  soon  arrived  at  the  clean  white  adobe  house.  The  driver  got  down 
and  opened  the  door. 

"  All  right,  lady ;  I  '11  help  you  down  and  get  you  in.  It 's  all  right. 
North  and  his  folks  will  be  home  before  long,  and  proper  glad  to  see  ye." 

Aunt  was  helped  down  with  trembliiig  limbs,  and  with  a  most  distressed 
face. 

We  went  into  the  house.  It  was  a  simple  place,  but  very  neat.  Aunt  sat 
down,  laying  her  crutches  on  the  floor.  I  paid  the  driver,  and  the  team  rolled 
away  in  a  glimmering  cloud  of  dust. 

"  I  don't  feel  quite  right  to  be  left  here,  a  stranger,  in  this  way,"  said  Aunt. 
"  Let 's  keep  the  door  shut,  Audley ;  suppose  a  pack  of  those  wolves  —  coyotes 
—  should  come,  and  the  folks  all  away?  " 

The  day  passed  in  dead  silence,  —  a  long  blaze  of  sunlight.  Aunt  watched 
through  a  little  window  for  the  return  of  Elmer,  but  no  human  being  appeared. 
There  was  plenty  of  food  in  the  house,  and  we  felt  free  to  eat  what  we 
needed.  , 

At  last  the  great  red  sun  went  down  between  the  pillar-Hkc  mountains. 
Aunt  began  to  look  very  anxious,  and  I  shared  her  fears.  The  moon  came  up 
as  the  sun  went  down.  The  mountains  stood  like  great  shadows  against  an 
ocean-like  sky.  The  mountains  seemed  to  grow  in  size,  i  id  the  silence  of 
everything  was  oppressive.     Hours  passed ;  the  evening  was  late.     We  listened 


raaaiBS 


1^ 


i* 


;mi 


m 


ills,! 


PORTAGIN(;  A  CANOr.  IN  THK  WOODS  OK  CANADA. 


1 


mk. 


A    THOUHAND  MILES   TO   THE  MOUNTAINS. 


163 


almost  breathlessly  for  any  sound.  Moonlij^lit,  awful  shadows,  and  silence! 
At  last  wc  heard  a  far-away  crj-. 

"Hark!      What 's  that?  "  said  Aunt. 

It  was  answered  by  another  sharp  cry.  Then  it  seemed  to  be  answered 
by  a  hundred  cries. 

"  Wolves !  wolves !  "  said  Aunt.  *'  The  mountains  are  full  of  wolves. 
Don't  you  hear  them?" 

She  began  to  tremble. 

"  Fasten  the  windows,"  said  she.     "  I  'm  going  to  have  a  trembling-fit." 

The  poor  woman  shook  all  over.     I  began  to  shake  in  nerv  us  sympathy. 

She  then  rose  up,  and  walked  to  and  fro  the  long,  connecting  rooms,  wring- 
ing her  hands.  I  did  not  notice  at  the  time  that  she  did  not  use  her  crutches  j 
I  was  too  much  frightened  to  think  of  that  strange  event. 

"  Audley,  do  you  know  the  way  back  to  the  town  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  Are  you  sure?  " 

"Yes." 

"Could  you  run  there?" 

"Yes." 

"  They  may  not  be  at  home  to-night,  and  wc  might  be  eaten  up  by 
coyotes  before  morning.  I  have  read  of  such  things.  The  mountains  are  full 
of  them." 

"  'T  is  five  miles  to  the  town,"  said  I. 

"  But  't  is  only  about  half  that  distance  to  that  last  lot  of  houses  that  we 
passed." 

"  About  two  miles.  Aunt." 

"  Audley,  let's  go." 

"  l^ut  you  cannot  run,  Aunt." 

"  Why  not?  Yes,  1  can.  It  is  the  will  that  runs,  don't  you  know?  I  can 
run  as  fast  as  you  can.     I  used  to  run  when  I  was  a  girl.      Why  can't  I  run?  " 

"  I  '11  go  out  and  sec  if  the  road  is  clear  and  safe." 

"  I  '11  go  too." 

The  road   lay  level   in  the  full   moon.     The  air  was  like  a  silver  sea. 

"  Audley,  what  shall  we  do?     V  11  start  if  you  will." 

Just  then  tlicre  pierced  the  air  the  most  terrific,  spiteful  cry.  or  bark,  that 
ever  fell  on  my  ears.  It  was,  or  seemed,  answered  in  the  distance,  and  then 
the  same  sharp  cry  seemed  to  change  into  a  hundred,  as  though  one  wolf  hat! 
suddenly  become  multiplied  into  a  hundred  wolves. 

"  Yep,  yep,  yep,  yep !  "  and  we  looked  around  in  wildest  terror,  and  were 


■    :  ih 


164 


ZIGZAG  jOURxVEYS  IX   THE  GREAT  NORTH iVE:ST. 


■:  .  1 


m 


about  to  re  enter  the  huLise,  wlien  we  saw  an  object  with  a  little  head  on  the 
top  ol  an  adjoining  shed. 

"  They  're  climbing  the  house,"  said  Aunt,  "  a  hundred  of  them.  We  must 
run.     Just  hear  them!     We  c:'.  inot  go  back   now.     Run!" 

"  Yep,  yep,  yep,  yep  !  "  1  never  heard  such  a  peculiar,  spiteful  sound.  I 
verily  thought  that  a  pack  of  wolves  was  climbing  the  house,  and  would  be 
likely  to  leap  down  upon  us  if  we  returned.  I  ran ;  Aunt  followed,  holding  me 
by  the  hand.  She  faltered  once,  and  said  something  about  "crutches;"  but 
there  came  another  piercing  cry  from  the  vicinity  of  the  house,  which  seemed, 
as  before,  to  change  into  a  hundred  voices,  and  she  started  forward  again  with 
renewed  energy. 
■    The  noise  seemed  to  be  answered  frcm  every  hill. 

"They  think  they've  j^nt  us,"  said  she;  "  ..  hundred  of  them,  or  nearer  a 
thousand.  Sounds  as  though  they  wore  biting  onj  another's  heads  ofif.  They 
do  sometimes,  I've  read,  — -jr  t  eat  one  another    ip." 

After  this  startling  recolLction  we  flew.  Lights  soon  appeared  ahead,  and 
then  came  up  a  gre-^t  d  jle-team  full  of  pec  pie.     It  stopped. 

"  Hello,  strangers!  v  h?.t  is  th-;  matter?  "  said  a  mr^n  in  a  very  pleasant  voice. 

*'  Wolves  !  wolves  !  "  said  Aunt,  panting. 

"Wolves!  wolves!  "  echoed  I. 

"  No,  I  guess  not,  good  woman.     Where  did  you  come  from?  " 

"  Boston." 

"  Boston  I     Did  n't  run  all  the  way,  did  you?     Are  you  on  a  visit?  " 

"  I  don't  k.Tow  how  I  ever  got  here,  but  I  came  to  visit  Elmer  North." 

"  Then  you  have  not  far  to  go.     I  'm  Elmer  North." 

"  Oh,  I'^lmer,  Elmer!  Let  me  get  up  there.  The  wolves  are  after  us,  —  a 
whole  pack  of  them. ' 

Aunt  mounted  the  team  like  a  school- girl,  and  sat  down,  saying,  "  Oh,  I  am 
so  glad  that  I  am  safe !  " 

"  This  is  n't  Aunt  Mary,  is  it?  "  said  the  handsome  man. 

There  was  a  tiny  cry.  "This  is  very  astonishing,"  he  added,  "  That's 
little  Mary.     Aunt,  what  were  you   running  for?" 

"  Wolves!  wolves!  "     Aunt  uttered  the  words  with  awful  emphasis, 

"Wolves!  There  are  no  wolves  here.  This  is  a  safe  country.  I  never 
saw  a  wolf  in   my  life." 

There  filled  the  air  another  piercing  cry,  that,  as  before,  seemed  to  change 
into  a  hundred.     "  "Yep,  yep.  \ep,  yep  !  " 

"  There,  don't  you  hear  them, —  a  whole  pack  of  them,  at  your  house,  too? 
They  electrified  me." 


u 


[  I  V. 


Ill 


I 


i  it 


fr 


! 

11    * 


A    TIIOUSAM)  MILKS   TO   THE  MOUXTAIXS. 


167 


"Wolves!  That  pesky  little  coyote!  He  wouldn't  hurt  you  no  more 
than  a  cat.  He  's  sort  of  company  for  us.  We  don't  harm  him.  We  've  made 
him  tame  by  leaving  food  for  him  out  in  the  yard.  Vou  must  have  lost  your 
head,  Aunt ;   but  never  mind." 

"  There  are  a  hundred  of  them.  You  must  have  lost  your  ears,  Elmer ; 
but  never  mind." 

"  Oh,  Aunt,  you  don't  understand;  one  little  fellow  makes  all  those  noises. 
Why,  Aunt  Mary,  how  did  you  get  here?  I  was  never  so  surprised  in  my 
life." 

"  I  came  to  spend  Thanksgiving  with  you.  I  've  a  kind  of  theory,  Elmer, 
that  Thanksgiving  Day  should  not  only  be  one  of  reunion,  but  of  family 
reconciliation.     Don't  you  think  so?" 

"  Yes,  and  you  are  welcome,  Aunt  Mary  ;  you  are  welcome.  See,  here  is 
my  wife.     But  I  thought  you  were  —  " 

The  team  shortly  stopped  before  the  long  white  house.  A  pretty  little 
animal  ran  out  of  the  open  door,  and  passed  like  a  gray  streak  in  the  moonlight 
over  the  brown  dust. 

"  There  goes  your  wolf,  Aunt  Mary,  —  the  whole  hundred  of  them.  One 
little  coyote  has  many  voices,  and  these  voices  as  many  echoes.  You  left  the 
door  open,  and  he  's  been  up  to  some  thieving,  I  '11  be  bound.  Here,  Aunt, 
you  get  down  and  take  little  Mary,  and  we  '11  go  in  and  have  some  supper,  if 
that  coyote  has  n't  eaten  it  up  already." 

Aunt  took  little  Mary  and  carried  her  into  the  house. 

"  What  are  these  crutches  for?  "  asked  Elmer,  as  soon  as  a  light  had  been 
procured. 

Aunt  looked  at  them,  and,  like  the  "  little  woman  "  in  the  nursery  rhyme, 
began  to  cry:  "A  miracle!  A  miracle  has  been  wrought!  Oh,  I  am  so 
thankful !  I  knew  it  would  be  so !  I  felt  it  in  my  bones.  I  used  to  be 
lame,  but  New  Me.xico  is  very  electrifying;  you  said  'twould  be  so,  you 
know." 

Thanksgiving  Day  we  sat  down  to  a  table  savory  with  game  from  the  Organ 
Mountains.  The  doors  and  windows  were  open ;  there  was  a  gentle  coolness 
and  a  glimmering  brightness  in  the  air,  as  though  there  was  being  sifted  down 
from  the  sun-hazes  a  shower  of  gold. 

"  It  is  a  beautiful  day,"  said  Aunt,  after  the  meal.  "  We  ought  to  recount 
our  blessings.     We  arc  all  well;  we  ought  to  be  thankful  for  tliaty 

"  And  your  heart  has  been  as  true  as  a  mother's  to  me,"  said  Elmer.  "  I 
did  wrong  in  my  young  life,  but  I  will  be  a  true  son  to  you  now,  and  as  long 
as  I  live  ;  and  my  motive  is  not  money  or  any  personal  advantage." 


\u 


1 68 


ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS  IN  THE  GREAT  AORTllWEST. 


"  I  knew  it  would  be  so."  Aunt  here,  as  usual,  proceeded  to  speak  of  her 
prophetic  bones.  "I  have  my  bo)''s  heart  again;  let  us  be  thankful  lor  that. 
I  was  right,  Audley.  Thanksgiving  Days  should  be  forgiving  days.  We 
owe  it  to  our  own  blessings  to  make  them  so.  To  rise  above  self  and  make 
others  happy  is  the  true  Thanksgiving.  1  wish  1  were  a  governor,  but  1  don't 
expect  that  I  ever  shall  be." 

"  And  little  Mary  here,"  said  I-'lmer's  wife  ;  "  let  us  be  thankful  for  her!' 
"  And  there  goes  that  miserable  little  coyote  with  his  hundred  tongues  and 
no  one  knows  how  man^'  echoes,"  said  Aunt,  with  a  jump.     "  He  did  me  more 
g'ood  than  all  the  doctors  I  e\er  had.     Let  us  be  thankful  for  tluity 


J'  !  " 


CHAPTER   VIII. 


STORIKS   OF    THE    CANADIAN    RIVER   SONGS. 

fMI^RE  was  a  vouns:  French  Canadian  on  tlu'  train,  wlio 
was  called  Jean.  He  had  been  a  raftsirian  on  the 
Ottawa;  he  had  easy  manners,  a  generous  heart,  and 
good-nature,  and  could  sing  happily  the  boat-songs  of 
the  St.  Lawrence  and  the  Canadian  rivers.  Several 
of  the  songs  which  he  sang  on  the  train  ha\.  pleasin;  histories, 
and  some  accounts  ol'  them  are  given  in  a  l^-ench  work  called 
"  Chansons  Populaires."  which  we  find  dedicated  to  the  Princess 
Louise  and  Marquis  of  Lome.  Ihe  collector  is  Ernest  Ciagnon. 
Of  course  the  two  most  popular  airs  to  Canadian  ears  were  "  La  Claire 
Fontaine  "'  and  "  Vive  la  Canadienne,"  which  Jean  rendered  with  that 
sympathetic  action  which  belongs  peculiarly  to  the  French  habitants 
of  the  province  of  Quebec.  We  give  a  translated  history  of  these 
folk-songs,  with  a  verse  or  two. 


!    ' 


LA    CLAIRE   FONTAINE. 

From  the  little  child  of  seven  years  to  the  old  man  witli  white 
hair  everybody  in  Canada  knows  and  sings  "  La  Claire  Fontaine." 
One  is  not  a  Canadian  otherwise.  The  melody  of  this  song  is  very 
elementary,  and  offers  little  of  interest  to  the  musician.  Never- 
theless, because  of  its  great  popularity  it  is  often  taken  for  the  theme 
of   airs  of    dance  and  even  of    concert    music.     In    Normandy    they 


i  M 


170 


ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS  IN  THE  GREAT  NORTHWEST. 


i 

»■   f;' 

it 

'•1' 
■.1 

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m 

1' 

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■'1 

;;i 

1^. 

t 

1  ■■!  .'  ■ 

'.H 

^1 

If 

^j 

J; 

1 ' 

j^ 

1  -. 

Si 

i: 

^* 

sing  a  song  of  which  the  words  are  nearly  the  same  as  those  of  our 
"  Claire  Fontaine,"  but  the  air  is  wholly  different, 

"  A  la  claire  fontaine 
«  M'cn  allant  promencr,  , 

J'ai  irouv(5  I'eau  si  belle 
Que  je  m'y  suis  baigni?. 

Lui  y  a  longtemps  que  je  t'aime, 
Jamais  ie  ne  t'oublierai.'' 

It  is  a  very  simple  love-song ;  a  young  lover  loses  his  sweetheart 
by  caprice,  and  wishes  the  old  happy  days  of  their  courtship  were 
brought  back  again.     The  refrain  is  quite  suggestive,  sad  and  spiritual : 

"  Long  time  have  I  loved  thee, 
I  will  never  forget  thee." 

This  song,  sung  by  an  American  in  the  mechanical  American  way, 
would  mean  little,  but  put  into  sympathetic  action  by  a  French  Cana- 
dian would  be  full  of  emotional  suggestion  ;  there  would  be  recognized 
a  soul  in  it,  all  the  more  beautiful  because  suggested  in  an  evasive 
manner.  Jean  was  asked  to  sing  it  again  and  again,  and  a  warm- 
hearted French  Canadian  seldom  refuses  to  grant  a  friend  any  favor. 

"VIVE   LA   CANADIENNE." 

The  melody  of  this  song,  as  well  as  that  of  "  La  Claire  Fontaine,'* 
holds  the  place  of  the  national  air,  until  something  better  turns  up. 
It  is  needless  to  say  that  the  words  of  "  Vive  la  Canadienne  "  are 
of  comparatively  recent  composition,  and  did  not  come  to  us  from 
France ;  but  I  must  say  that  the  first  stanza  of  this  song  is  the  only 
one  which  is  generally  known  :  — 

"  Vive  la  Canadienne, 
Vole,  nion  cceur,  vole, 
Vive  la  Canadienne, 
Et  ses  jolis  yeux  doux 
Et  ses  jolis  yeux  doux.  doux,  doux, 
Et  ses  jolis  yeux  doux." 


O 


if 


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51 


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1^1 1: 


» 


iiTUKJLS  OF  THE   CAXADIAX  K/rEK  SO.XuS. 


173 


■\■Vi.•»^'•'"*'*^-■'-'^■''• 


...«:^^^'' 


yai 


ill; 


»??3pl«**"- 


^.,  ^4^'i. 


r^i^tifffft^ . 


"VIVK   LA   CANAUIICNNI'..' 


Jean  sang  the  "  Song  of  the  Three  Rivers  "  several  times ;  but 
the  most  acceptable  song  of  all  to  the  company  as  a  whole  was  "  En 
Roulant,  ma  Boule,"  a  provincial  song  of  France,  that  always  delights 
the    ear    whenever    and    wherever   heard.     It  is  a  mere  collection  of 


174 


ZIG/.^IG  JOURXEYS  L\'  THE  GREAT  AORTHWEST. 


) 


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nonsense  rhymes,  and  may  be  lengthened  at  \yill  by  tlie  rowers  on 
the  sunset  rivers  and  streams.  The  sonij  relates  that  a  kind's  son 
had  a  silver  gun  and  went  out  to  shoot  a  white  duck  for  the  down  ; 
and  the  rest  of  the  story  may  be  supplied  at  will,  provided  that  the 
words  "  En  roulant,  ma  boule,  roulant,"  are  repeated  to  measure  the 
strokes  of  the  oars. 

Tom  Moore's  version  of  the  popular  Canadian  boat-song  of  the 
Ottawa  was  sung  by  Jean  and  several  of  the  other  emigrants  who 
knew  it  well.     In  fact,  there  were  few  on  the  car  who  had  not  heard 

I  "  Row.  brothers,  row  ;  tlie  stream  runs  fast. 

The  Rapids  are  near,  and  the  daylight's  past  " 

Jean  sang  the  gay  paddle-song  of  the  P.ed  River  of  the  North, 
which  strangely  enough  is  a  tale  of  tropical  orange-trees.  It  must  be 
pleasant  for  the  Red  River  voyager  to  dream  of  the  tropics  with  — 

"A  heart  to  love, 
<  So  gay,  gay.  gay." 


PIERRE,   THE   FRENCH   CANADIAN   SINGER. 

Tlir:    I5URNING   OF   TIIK    I'OWDER-CANDLi:.  ' 

I  can  see  the  old  chest  now  in  my  niind  as  I  used  to  glance  at  it  hastily, 
very  hastily  indeed,  in  xwy  boyhood.  It  stood  there,  scarred  and  dusty,  anionic 
tlic  ancestral  rubbish  of  the  tool- room.  The  fact  that  I  only  cast  telescopic 
j^lances  at  it  was  due  to  my  early  spiritual  education,  and  to  a  very  alarming 
remark  that  was  once  made  to  me  by  Jerry  the  clani-diygcr :  "  Don't  go  there, 
Sonny;  there  is  where  Pierre  the  Pri-nch  b^y  saw  the  Devil;  don't  go  near  the 
tool-room."  I  needed  no  further  instruction  in  regard  to  the  matter.  Had  the 
tool-room  contained  a  less  startling  legend,  I  might  ha\e  been  tempted  to 
some  intrusion  among  the  superannuateil  farming  implements;  but  no  Rhode 
Island  boy  who  ever  listened  to  the  chimney-corner  legends  of  the  tibicpii- 
tous  individual  mentioned  by  Jerry  would  have  ventured  on  an\-  spot  that  he 
was  supposed  to  visit.  In  the  tine  old  days  of  the  ("harter  and  Rerkeleyan 
philosophy,  when  tar-water  was  supposed  to  be  tlie  remedy  for  all  the   ills  of 


niiii 


r.*  '^ 


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mtlflllflKmmmmmimmimimm^ 


STOR//£S  OF   THE   CANADIAN  KJVER  SONGS. 


177 


life,  the  spiritual  world  seems  to  have  been  very  near  to  Rhode  Island.  Tlic 
old  Puritans  of  the  Plymouth  Colony  seem  only  to  have  had  visions  of  ^v\m 
ghosts  and  graveyard  people,  and  the  early  Boston  folks  were  accustonuHi  to 
see  yet  more  awful  scenes;  but  Rhode  Island,  thanks  to  hopeful  Bishop 
Berkeley  and  Roger  Williams,  had  a  more  merciful  ghost-world,  and  a  brigl'ter 
spiritual  atmosphere,  and  it  came  to  be  regarded  as  a  disgrace  for  a  Rhode 
Island  man  to  meet  the  Evil  One  anywhere,  and  we  trust  it  is  so  still,  now 
that  the  old  Charter  has  long  passed  the  period  of  its  great  usefulness.  In 
fact,  it  is  related  that  when  the  livil  One  last  appeared  on  the  green  plantations 
of  the  blue  Narragansett  Bay,  it  was  to  a  stately  Baptist  dame,  whom  he 
wished  to  terrify  from  attending  evening  meetings.  She  was  humiliated  to 
have  met  him,  and  at  first  did  not  speak  a  word,  but  went  on  her  way  indig- 
nantly. He  at  last  announced  officially  who  he  was.  "  Then  you  arc  a  poor 
critter  indeed,  and  you  ought  to  be  ashamed  of  yourself,"  replied  she  promptly; 
and  since  then,  we  may  imagine,  good  angels  only  have  haunted  the  ways  to 
the  conference-room  and  the  Quaker  mct^ting 

Who  was  Pierre  the  French  boy?  I  would  ask  Aunt  Experience  Smart, 
the  whilom  village  teacher,  when  we  next  went  hen's-nesting  in  the  old  barn. 
I  would  know  the  meaning  of  the  awful  legend  so  darkly  outlined  by  Jerry 
the  clam-digger. 

The  morning  after  making  the  resolution  to  seek  for  occult  knowledge 
was  a  beautiful  one  indeed.  The  sun  came  broad  and  golden  through  cur- 
tains of  damask,  and  rolled  in  flames  up  the  dewy  sky.  The  great  elms  dried, 
and  the  locusts  chorussed  in  their  green  tents,  and  the  world  seemed  all  life 
and  light  and  vivid  splendor.  Cool  winds  rippled  over  the  seas  of  corn,  and 
the  ospreys  hung  in  air  on  motionless  pens,  screaming  with  content.  There 
was  a  tremendous  cackle  in  tlu  barn,  announcing  great  events,  and  Aunt  Expe- 
rience listened  with  a  serene  hcpefulness  at  the  probable  large  increase  of  her 
revenues. 

"  Come,  Sonny,"  said  she,  putting  on  her  calasii,  the  most  marvellous  bon- 
net ever  invented,  —  "  Come,  Sonny,  let  us  go  to  the  barn  and  gather  itp  tlie 
eggs." 

She  pushed  the  roses  away  from  the  door,  and  I  let  down  the  bars  for  her, 
and  we  turned  into  the  orchard,  and  iollowed  the  path  to  the  barn.  The 
orchard  was  full  of  pencilled  sunlight  and  cool  shadows.  We  could  hear  the 
mowers  rifling  their  scythes  near  by  in  the  meadows,  and  breathe  the  air  of 
the  new-cut  hay. 

The  barn  doors  were  open.  How  hospitable  are  the  doors  of  an  old 
Rhode  Island  ham  I  When  aii  other  doors  were  closed  against  some  poor 
wanderer  of  humanity,  he  would  be  told  he  might  go  and  "  sleep  in  tlie  barn  ;  " 

12 


11 


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^CIGZAG  JOURNEYS  IN  THE  GREAT  NORTH IV EST. 


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and  there  he  would   bury  his  sorrows  in  profound   shimber  among  the  sweet 
liarvcst  of  the  meadows. 

The  swallows  were  skimming  the  air,  and  their  young  were  twittering  in 
the  plastered  nests  among  the  be.'.ms.  Now  and  then  a  mother-swallow  would 
dart  into  the  peak  under  the  roof,  when  all  the  air  above  would  turn  into 
ripples  t!ie  silvery  notes  of  the  young  broods  awaiting  to  be  fed.  The  mows 
were  half  full  of  clover,  and  the  air  was  odorous  everywhere.  We  stopped 
on  the  cool  barn  fluor  to  breathe  the  air  and  look  away  to  the  sea-meadows 
and  the  white  sails  of  the  violet  sea. 

"  This  is  a  beautiful  world,  Sonny,"  said  Aunt  Experience.  "  Don't  never 
leave  the  farm,  Sonny.  Blessed  are  they  who  are  born  on  the  farm  and  know 
enough  to  stay  there.     All  of  the  good  Lord's  gifts  come  to  the  farm." 

She  crooked  her  arm  over  her  calash,  and  gazed  into  the  over-sea  of  sun- 
light that  glimmered  everywhere,  a  picture  of  contentment  for  a  Hogarth. 

Her  day-dream  was  interrupted.  There  was  another  cackle.  An  aston- 
ished hen  had  left  her  nest  under  the  ruffled  impression  of  invaded  rights; 
the  tax-gatherers  had  come  to  Jcru'jalem.  The  great  hubbub  was  in  the  tool- 
room, among  the  cobwebs. 

"  Go,  look,  Sonny."  said  Aunt  Experience.  "  Stole  her  nest  in  the  old 
sea-chest,  likely  as  ui.t.  That '.•.  where  I  used  to  keep  my  Rhininjun  [Rye  and 
Indian]  meal." 

I  opened  the  door  very  cautiously.  No  dark  object  appeared,  —  onl)'  the 
industrious  hen.  I  held  the  leatlier  latch-string  in  my  hand  for  prudence  and 
security,   and   then   I   ventured  to   remark,  — 

"  Aunt  Experience,  who  was  Pierre  the  Erenrh  boy?" 

"  IMerre  —  yes,  Pierre;  he  was  the  farm  hand  that  frightened  old  Deacon 
Woodpecker  out  of  his  palsy.     What  made  you  ask.  Sonny?" 

"  Did  he  ever  see  the       see  anytliing  strange  in  this  room?  " 

"Oh,  la  no,  .Sonny;  it  was  old  Methuselum,  Who  has  been  telling  you 
that  story?     Run  along  and  get  the  eggs." 

"  But  who  was  Methuselum,  Aunt?  " 

"  Methuselum  ?     Why,  he  was  old  Methuselum  ;   don't  you  know?  " 

Here  was  indeed  a  mysterious  order  of  events.  Pierre  the  French  boy 
had  met  the  dark  wanderer  of  the  evil  atmospheres  in  this  cobwebbcd  iDom, 
or  else  old  Methusi-lum,  -  I  wondefed  if  it  were  the  patriarch  Methuselah,  - 
and  Iv  had  frightened  old  l^eacon  Wtxidpecker  out  of  his  palsy.  My  imagi- 
nation b>.,'gan  to  grow  and  glow,  and  a  dark  apprehension  came  over  me,  even 
there  amid  the  meadows  of  liictd  sunliijht,  under  the  protectioji  of  Aunt 
Experience's  calash. 


y 


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HI'     '    I  I 
It,    ,1 


Lsa  a  1 


SIORJES  OF  THE  CANADIAN  R/i'E/i  SONGS. 


i8i 


*'  But  where  did  Pierre  the  French  boy  see  old  Mctliuschiin?  "  T  persisted. 

•'  Right  there  by  the  chest.  He  had  horns  on,  and  I'icrrc  had  just  woke 
up  in  the  chest  and  hfted  the  cover,  and  — " 

A  shadow  darkened  a  broad  patch  of  sunhght  outside.  Hens  Hew  in 
every  direction.  Aunt  Experience  ruslied  to  the  barn  door,  and  shook  her 
apron  with  a  spasmodic  "  Shoo,  shoo !  "  A  hawk  had  swooped  down,  and 
we  presently  heard  a  chicken  peeping  in  the  sky. 

"  I  declare,  it  does  make  my  heart  ache  to  see  a  poor  chicken  carried  off 
so,"  said  she.  "  I  wish  I  had  a  gun !  I  don't  believe  in  killin',  but  I  would 
kill  that  there  hawk,  I  declare  I  would." 

It  was  a  mere  matter  of  the  imagination.  We  fancy  that  Aunt  Eyncrience 
had  never  used  a  gun,  or  any  weapon  other  than  a  Rhode  Island  button- 
wood  whip. 

Here  the  excitement  abated,  and  she  broke  off  a  broad  burdock-leaf  grow- 
ing near  the  open  door  and  began  to  fan  herself. 

"  IV/io  had  horns?"  I  continued. 

"  Oh,  don't  ask  me  anything  more  about  Pierre !  If  you  will  be  a  good 
boy,  I  will  give  you  a  powder-candle  next  Christmas,  and  I  will  tell  you  the 
whole  story  while  it  is  burning,  the  same  as  I  did  the  story  of  the  '  Wee,  wee 
pig,'  last  year.  Pierre  thought  that  he  saw  the  l-vil  Spirit,  but  it  was  only 
old  Methusclum.  It  is  a  story  for  a  winter  night.  Let 's  gather  up  the 
eggs  and  go  field  raspbcrrying." 

Here  was  indeed  something  to  look  forward  to,  —  a  powder-candle,  and  a 
story  that  would  make  clear  all  these  darkly  mysterious  events  associated 
with  the  tool-room  and  the  old  carved  sea-chest. 

My  readers  may  have  never  heard  of  the  old  powder-candle  of  Rhode 
Island  days.  It  is,  indeed,  a  departed  light,  but  few  Christmas  inventions 
ever  created  greater  interest  and  amusement.  The  Rhode  Island  Baptists 
did  not  celebrate  Christmas  in  their  churches,  nor  the  Quakers ;  yet  nearly 
all  the  old  farmers'  families  burned  a  powder-candle  on  Christmas  Eve.  The 
custom  had  been  brought  from  some  provincial  towns  in  England,  and  it 
spread  in  Rhode  Island  in  the  following  strange  way.  Each  farmer  used  to 
kill  each  fall  the  beef  for  his  own  use ;  and  the  good  dames  of  his  richly 
stored  household  used  to  melt  the  tallow  in  an  enormous  pot,  and  dip  into  it 
candle-wicks  over  and  over,  until  the  wicks  grew  to  be  candles.  The  candle- 
dipping  day  was  an  event  in  the  thrifty  household.  Into  one  of  these  wicks 
a  goosequill  filled  with  powder  was  tied,  to  follow  an  old  provincial  custom. 
This  wick  became  a  powder-candle.  When  burned,  it  would  explode  as 
the  flame  reached  the  quill;   and  the  watching  of  the  burning  of  the  candle 


'k 


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1«2 


ZIGZAG   JOUJiA'tys  IN   THE   GREAT  NOKTHWEST. 


by  the  youn^  people  of  the  family  and  their  invited  friends  furnished  one 
of  the  most  dramatic  events  of  the  year.  As  it  had  been  the  old  l*-nghsii 
custom  to  burn  the  powder-candle  on  Christmas  Iwe,  the  rich  lipiscopal 
families  of  Newport  and  elsewhere  burned  their  powder-candles  on  the  same 
ilate  of  the  twelve-day  festival,  and  Baptists  and  (Quakers  conformed  to  the 
custom. 

The  burning  oi  the  powder-candle  on  Christmas  Eve  was  often  accom- 
panied by  the  telling  of  some  marvellous  story,  the  climax  of  which  was  to 
be  reached  just  as  the  candle  exploded.  Many  of  the  rich  families  had 
obtained  their  wealth  by  tradinjj  on  the  African  coast,  and  among  the  story- 
tellers were  the  liuinea  negroes,  who  would  relate  adventures  with  the  native 
forest  giants,  and  with  snakes  "  a  thousand  feet  long."  All  the  family  and 
household  listened  to  these  talcs  out-imagining  Cervantes,  Smollett,  Fielding, 
and  Scott,  from  the  grand-dame  in  her  high  cap  and  crossed  kerchief,  to  the 
turnspit  and  pickaninny.  The  negro  fiddler  was  sure  to  be  found  at  the  more 
aristocratic  gatherings,  and  roasted  Rhode  Island  greenings  and  cider  were 
served  after  the  great  shout  that  followed  the  explosion  of  the  candle,  which 
for  a  time  turned  the  room  into  smoke  and  darkness,  and  made  the  timid 
cringe  with  real  or  pretended  nervous  fear.  It  was  the  enjoyment  of  a  modi- 
fied form  of  this  curious  custom  to  which  I  had  already  been  invited  by 
Aunt  Experience,  who  always  fulfilled  her  liberal  promises.  Then  I  should 
know  who  Pierre  was,  and  Methusehim,  and  how  Deacon  Woodpecker's 
palsy  was  cured,  and  the  real  truth  of  the  awful  event  which  Jerry  the  clam- 
digger  had  hinted  had  taken  place  in  the  tool-room  in  the  barn.  How  I 
waited  for  the  autumn  trees  to  turn,  the  chestnut-burrs  to  open,  and  the 
snows  to  fall ! 

It  came  at  last,  that  eventful  December,  and  in  the  mean  time  I  had  avoided 
with  a  mediaeval  horror  the  tool-room  and  the  old  barn  chest.  I  had  even 
refused  to  help  pile  up  the  pumpkins  and  squashes  in  the  tool-room.  How 
could  I  know  whether  the  inhabitant  of  the  haunted  air  was  at  home  or  not. 
or  when  he  might  appear?  I  think  it  would  have  turned  me  idiotic  to  have 
a  glimpse  of  Jiivi,  and  I  had  no  wish  whatever  to  meet  Methuselum,  even  if 
he  were  the  patriarch,  as  a  part  of  his  name  seemed  to  suggest. 

.Snow  fell;  the  candles  were  dipped  and  dried,  and  with  the  candles,  the 
powder-candle  with  a  big  quill  of  rock  powder.  I  was  allowed  to  invite  my 
friends  to  sec  the  burning  and  listen  to  the  mysterious  tale  of  the  old 
barn  chest. 

Aunt  l-lxperience  was  a  natural  story-teller,  one  of  the  story-books  of  old. 
Almost    ever}-   family   had    one    natural   story-teller,    as    every   old   castle   in 


STOKJES  OF   THE   CANADIAN  KJIEK  SONoS. 


18 


En{,f|and  once  had  its  natural  niinstrcl.  They  were  living  books,  tlusc  olii 
entertainers,  and  tiieir  faces  furnished  the  ilhistratiuns.  Thi)  acted  thrir 
stories,  as  well  as  told  them,  ami  exercised  a  sort  of  maj^iietic  indiience  over 
their  hearers.  The  Guinea  negroes  were  geniuses  in  producing  in  rvous  results 
while  relating  such  stories. 

I  never  shall  forget  Aunt  Experience's  last  year's  Christmas  story  on  the 
occasion  of  the  powder-candle.  It  was  an  luiglish  stor}',  and  a  very  curious 
evolution  of  the  Hebrew  story  known  as  "  A  Kid,  a  Kid  which  my  father 
bought  with  two  pieces  of  money ;  a  Kid,  a  Kid."  The  story  was  an  alle- 
gorical history  of  the  Jews,  and  the  nK>st  orthodo.x  people  might  relate  that 
on  Christmas  Kve. 

Not  all  the  stories  of  the  Orient,  or  of  Grimm,  Andersen,  or  Fielding, 
over  so  charmed  me  as  this  Christmas  tale  of  the  "  Wee,  wee  pig,"  tolil  while 
the  powder-candle  was  burning  its  thrilling  tallow.  I  will  produce  a  specimen 
of  it,  as  among  the  curiosities  of  the  story-tellin<ij  art.  In  order  to  read  it 
correctly,  or  tell  it,  the  words  "wee,  wee"  had  to  be  uttered  in  a  little  com- 
plaining squeal,  like  the  cry  of  a  young  pig,  and  no  one  who  has  not  heard 
the  peculiar  cry  could  tell  the  story  effectively,  or  appreciate  its  queer  and 
comic  influence.     It  began  in  this  wise:  — 

"  Once  upon  a  time  there  was  a  wee,  wee  old  woman  who  lived  in  a  wee 
cottage  in  Cockermouth,  England.  This  wee,  wee  old  woman  was  one  day 
sweeping  her  house  with  a  wee,  wee  broom,  when  she  found  a  wee,  wee  sixpence. 
The  wee,  wee  old  woman  took  the  wee,  wee  sixpc-.ice,  and  bought  a  wee  pig, 
and  started  to  drive  the  wee,  wee  pig  to  her  wee,  wee  home.  She  came  to  a 
wee  bridge  over  a  wee,  wee  river,  when  the  wee,  wee  pig  stopped,  and  refiused 
to  move.  Then  the  wee,  wee  old  woman  said  to  a  wee,  wee  stick,  '  Oh,  stick, 
do  beat  wee,  wee  pig;  wee,  wee  pig  won't  go  over  the  bridge,  and  I  sha' n't 
get  home  to-night.'  " 

It  would  fill  pages  to  relate  the  trials  of  this  wee,  wee  old  woman,  which 
grew  and  grew,  and  were  ended  at  last  by  a  little  gnat  which  bit  a  bear  on 
the  inside  of  his  nose,  when  the  following  astonishing  series  of  events  hap- 
pened. The  bear,  stinging  with  pain,  began  "to  kill  the  dog,  the  dog  began 
to  kill  the  cat,  the  cat  began  to  kill  the  rat,  the  rat  began  to  gnaw  the  rope, 
the  rope  began  to  hang  the  butcher,  the  butcher  began  to  kill  the  ox, 
the  ox  began  to  drink  the  water,  the  water  began  to  quench  the  fire,  the 
fire  began  to  burn  the  stick,  the  stick  began  to  beat  the  pig,  and  the  wee  pig 
began  to  run  over  the  bridge."  Just  here  the  powder-candle  went  off  with  a 
blackening  explosion;  all  shrieked,  and  ran  about  in  the  darkness  as  if  in 
the    greatest  terror,  after  which  followed  a  charming  merry-making,  and  the 


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Z/GZAG   JOURNEYS  IN  THE   GREAT  NORTHWEST. 


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"  wcc,  wee  old  woman,"  and,  "  tlie  wee,  wee  pig,"  and  the  guests,  negroes  and 
all,  brought  the  scenes  of  the  night  to  a  happy  conclusion  with  a  jingle  of 
sleigh-bells.  They  are  gone,  all  gone,  those  happy  days,  and  the  snowy 
marbles  reflect  the  starlight  on  the  forgotten  graves  of  the  actors  on  the  jld 
Rhode  Island  hills. 

Our  dinner  on  the  evening  before  the  burning  of  the  candle  was  espe- 
cially sumptuous.  Turkeys,  Yorkshire  puddings,  apple  dumplings  with  potato 
crusts,  all  kinds  of  dishes  made  of  pumpkin,  roast  pig,  rye  pancakes  and 
gingerbread,  Rhode  Island  johnny-cakes  and  apple-sauce,  suet  pudding,  berry 
cakes,  boiled  pudding,  apples,  nuts,  and  cider,  —  what  a  board  it  was  !  I  have 
never  seen  the  like  in  any  modern  hotel  in  Boston  or  New  York. 

The  long-awaited  evening  fell  with  a  crisp,  frosty  air,  and  a  jingle  of 
bells.  They  came,  the  old  Rhode  Island  names, — the  Potters,  the  Almys,  the 
Bufifons,  the  Barneses,  the  Chases.  The  candles  were  lighted,  and  the  great 
kitchen  was  filled  with  children,  with  lovers  in  the  dark  corners  of  the  parlor, 
and  o);'  men  with  buckles  on  their  shoes  before  the  great  roaring  sitting- 
room  fire. 

Aunt  Experience  came  down  from  her  room  in  huge  cap,  laces,  and 
brown  satin  dress.  The  young  people  seemed  awed  by  her  stately  presence 
as  she  sat  down  in  her  high-backed  chair.  She  lighted  the  powder-candle, 
and  proceeded  to  relate  the  story  of  "  Ginevra,"  in  Rogers's  "  Italy."  She 
then  seized  the  silver  snulTers,  glanced  slowly  and  mysteriously  around, 
and  said, — 

"There  is  a  carved  sea-chest  in  the  barn  that  has  a  very  grave  history; 
but  it  did  not  prove  to  be  a  tomb,  as  you  shall  hear.     Listen." 

The  room  became  very  still,  and  the  powder-candle  burned  slowly  and 
silently.  She  gave  the  burnt  wick  one  pinch  with  the  silver  snuffers,  and 
continued :  — 

"  The  old  people  all  remember  Pierre  Rigot,  the  Canada  boy  who  used 
to  sing  such  beautiful  songs  at  the  huskings,  and  whose  only  fault  was  that 
he  would  drink  too  much,  —  poor  I'ierrc  !  " 

Aunt  paused,  and  cast  her  eyes  about  the  room. 

"  He  came  to  us  friendless  and  poor,  and  wc  gave  him  a  home,  and 
the  young  people  liked  him  on  account  of  his  amiable  ways,  his  handsome 
face,  and  pleasant,  mellow  voice.  I  will  first  tell  you  how  he  was  the  means 
of  curing  Deacon  Woodpecker  of  the  palsy,  and  then  I  will  relate  a  strange 
event  that  happened  in  the  tool-room  of  the  barn. 

"  I  ought  first  to  tell  you  what  I  had  learned  of  Pierre's  hi-story.  He  had 
a  father   and    mother   living   at   Hochclaga,  Canada,   and  the  memory  of  his 


STORIES  OF  THE   CANADIAN  RIVER  SONGS. 


185 


mother  ('  My  poor  mother!  '  he  called  her)  was  always  very  dear  to  him.  Ho 
said  that  his  father  '  drank  hard,'  and  used  to  abuse  him,  and  that  was  why  he 
had  come  to  the  States  to  look  for  work.  He  had  been  brought  up  a  Catholic, 
though  he  gladly  attended  meeting  with  me,  and  came  to  love  the  old  Quaker 
preachers. 

"  How  sweetly  he  used  to  sing  in  French  the  old  Canadian  songs !  I 
recall  them  now,  and  his  bright,  dark  eyes  and  pleasant  smile.  His  heart 
was  always  full  of  sympathy;  he  felt  for  every  one  in  pain,  and  when  he  sang, 
it  seemed  as  if  his  soul  was  speaking. 

•'  There  was  one  song  of  his  I  shall  never  forget,  and  I  will  quote  a  part 
of  it  to  you  in  French,  for  perhaps  I  shall  have  occasion  to  speak  of  it  again. 
His  ''oul  used  to  seem  to  take  delight  in  it,  —  a  sort  of  poetic  and  spiritual 
delignt  that  made  his  young  face  beautiful.  Where  he  learned  it  I  cannot  tell. 
The  music  was  full  of  emotion. 


ft 

m 


'  Le  matin,  quand  je  me  reveille. 
Je  vois  mon  Jesu  venir. 
II  est  beau  b.  merveille, 
Cast  lui  qui  me  rdveille. 
C'est  Jcsu  ! 
Cest  Jdsu ! 
Mon  aimable  Jdsu  \ 


. 


*Je  le  vois,  mon  Jdsu.  je  It  vois 
Porter  sa  brillante  croix 
Lk  haut  sut  cette  montagne, 
Sa  m^re  I'uccompagne. 
C'est  Jdsu  ! 
Cost  Jdsu  ! 
Mon  aimable  Jdsu  ! 

*  Ses  pieds,  ses  mains,  sont  cloudes, 

Et  son  chef  est  couronnd 

Des  grosses  cpines  blanches ; 

Grand  Dieu  1  quelle  souffrance  ! 

C'est  Jdsu  ! 

C'est  Jdsu ! 

Mon  aimable  Jdsu  ! '  " 


ad 

Hiis 


The  candle  sputtered  at  times,  but  it  would  require  at  least  a  half-hour 
for  the  flame  to  reach  the  powder-quill,  and  the  great  company  filling  the 
rooms  and  doors  were  all  eyes  and  ears,  and  stood  in  interrogative  attitudes. 


»' 


1 86 


Z/aZAa   JOURNEYS  /A   THE   GREAT  NORTHWEST. 


"  Well,  about  the  deacon's  palsy." 

"  There  was  a  ferocious  bull  on  the  place,  called  Brindle.  Pierre  had 
the  charge  of  him,  and  kept  him  perfectl)'  under  control.  I  never  saw  any 
animal  paw  the  earth  and  bellow  like  Brindle,  and  the  whole  town  seemetl 
afraid  of  him.  He  used  to  chase  the  people  who  came  berrying  in  our  pas- 
tures, and  I  never  saw  fat  people  and  lame  people  and  short  people  so  aston- 
ishingly nimble  and  active  as  when  old  Brindle  took  after  them.  I  have  often 
heard  terrible  screams  on  the  hot  summer  days,  followed  by  bellows  that  might 
have  shaken  the  hills,  and  have  sent  Pierre  to  S'-e  that  no  harm  was  done  to  the 
flying  berry-pickers. 

"  Pierre  used  to  bathe  in  the  pasture  brook  under  the  great  elm  every 
Sunday  morning  in  summer  before  dressing  for  meeting.  The  bathing-place  is 
exposed  to  the  bridge,  and  I  used  to  provide  for  him  a  white  bathing-suit  of 
under-clothing  and  have  it  ready  when  he  asked  for  it. 

"  One  Sunday  morning  in  June  he  asked  for  his  bathing-suit,  and  I  handed 
him  a  red  flannel  covering,  and  he  hurried  away.  The  bell  began  to  ring  for 
meeting,  and  he  did  not  return. 

"  Just  then  I  saw  good  old  Deacon  Woodpecker  and  his  little  wife  coming 
along  the  way  very  slowly.  The  deacon  was  hobbling  on  a  crutch,  and  his 
wife  was  leading  him  by  the  arm.  The  thrushes  were  singing,  and  the  orioles 
were  swinging  among  the  sun  flood  in  the  elms.  I  stepped  out  of  the  door 
under  the  morning-glories. 

"  '  This  is  a  beautiful  morning,  Miss  Smart,'  said  the  deacon,  with  a  very 
melancholy  look. 

"  'Yes,  glorious,'  said  I.     '  How  do  you  do?' 

"  '  Miserable,  miserable.  I  can  only  just  hobble  along,  as  you  see,  and  1 
never  expect  to  take  another  step  in  this  world  without  pain.  My  pilgrimage 
is  almost  done,  and  a  weary  journey  it  will  be  to  the  end.  I  have  been  e'en- 
most  an  hour  coming  half  a  mile.  I  shake  so,  and  then  I  have  the  spring  halt 
so,  and  the  pain  catches  me  here,  and  here,  and  here,  and  everywhere,  —  oh,  oh, 
oh ! '  and  he  uttered  a  dismal  groan,  and  added,  '  I  could  not  go  a  step  faster  if  it 
were  to  save  the  town.  Some  folks  thinks  I  am  spleeny,  but  I  am  not!  If  you 
were  to  tell  me  the  house  was  on  fire,  I  could  not  bring  a  bucket  of  water,  'T  is 
oh  !  and  oh  !  and  oh  !  with  me,  and  will  be  until  I  die.' 

"  He  hobbled  on,  a  perfect  tableau  of  wretchedness  and  hopelessjiess.  He 
presently  turned,  and  said,  '  Would  you  mind  letting  down  the  pasture  bars 
for  me?  The  way  will  be  shorter  across  lots.  All  my  ways  of  life  nuist  be 
short  now.' 

"  I  let  down  the  bars,  and  the  deacon  passed  over  them,  with  the  assistance 


He 

bars 

St   be 


S/OIi/ES   OF   THE   CANADLIN  RIVER  SONGS. 


187 


of  his  little  Quaker-like  wife.  I  saw  them  go  up  t-ie  hill,  among  the  sweet- 
ferns  and  wild  roses,  and  went  to  my  room  to  prepare  for  meeting.  I  had  hardly 
undone  my  hair  before  I  heard  a  bellow.  I  was  sure  it  was  Brindle.  I  recalled 
the  deacon  in  the  pasture,  and  my  heart  beat;  but  I  remembered  that  Pierre 
was  there,  ant!  the  thought  brought  relief 

"  I  hastened  to  the  door,  when  the  most  astonishing  scene  that  I  ever  saw 
met  my  eyes.  Brindle  was  appearing  above  the  hill,  his  tail  erect,  tearing 
up  the  earth  with  his  feet,  and  bellowing;  and  Pierre,  arrayed  in  red,  like  a 
Mephistopheles,  his  wet  clothes  sticking  to  his  form,  was  on  the  animal's  neck, 
holding  on  to  his  horns.  At  every  plunge  that  the  animal  made,  the  boy's  red 
form  was  thrown  into  the  air,  but  he  clung  to  the  horns  still.  What  could  it 
mean  ? 

"  The  deacon  had  stopped.  Brindle  saw  him,  and  putting  down  his  head 
and  giving  a  snort  and  bellow  as  of  pain,  he  rushed  with  the  force  of  a  hurri- 
cane toward  the  afflicted  man.  I  saw  his  little  wife  bravely  shake  her  parasol. 
Then  I  saw  the  poor  deacon  drop  his  crutch  and  begin  to  brush  his  face  in  a 
very  unaccountable  manner;  and  then  (could  I  believe  my  eyes?)  I  saw  him 
start  and  run,  —  run  like  u  boy  toward  the  great  rock  in  the  pasture,  leaving  his 
poor  little  wife  in  the  open  field.  Up  the  road  he  went  like  a  badger,  followed 
by  the  bull,  and  screaming,  '  Help!  help!  Miss  Smart,  Miss  Smart,  run,  run  ! 
O  Lord !   0  Lord  !  ' 

"  Something  had  maddened  the  bull,  and  was  still  maddening  him.  What 
could  it  mean?  I  asked  over  and  over.  Presently  I  saw  the  deacon  wheel 
around  and  around  on  the  rock  a  half-dozen  times,  and  swing  his  arms  like  a 
windmill,  and  then  he  leaped  off  the  rock,  and  in  the  face  of  the  roaring 
animal  he  ran  like  a  wild  boy  toward  the  pasture  bars,  crying,  '  Help  !  help  ! 
O  Lord  !  O  Lord  !  ' 

"  The  people  going  to  meeting  stopped,  and  armed  themselves  with  clubs 
and  sticks,  and  went  into  the  pasture  to  rescue  the  little  0-i^icer-like  deaconess, 
who  had  fallen  down  in  a  limp  little  heap,  and  thought  that  the  supreme  crisis 
of  the  world  had  indeed  come. 

"  Pierre  leaped  from  Brindle's  horns.     His  eyes  glowed  with  excitement. 

"  '  Boy,'  said  L  '  what  does  this  mean  ?  ' 

"  '  I  cannot  help  it,'  said  he.  '  Brindle  did  not  know  me  in  red  clothes,  and 
he  dove  after  me.  I  lifted  myself  up  on  the  branches  of  a  tree,  and  there  was 
a  hornet's  nest.  It  was  awful.  Then  I  dropped  down  on  Brindle's  back,  and 
oh,  oh,  oh !  I  am  all  stung  up  !  '  He  began  to  rub  his  wounds,  and  I  could 
see  that  he  spoke  the  truth. 

"The  people  gathered  to  hear  the  thrilling  recital,  but  half  a  dozen   hor- 


i 


1 88 


ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS  IN  THE  GREAT  NORTHWEST. 


nets,  which  had  come  to  verify  this  strange  tale,  soon  dispersed  them,  and  set 
them  flying  with  oJts  of  terror.  The  vaHant  band  rescued  the  deaconess,  and 
long  before  the  rescue  the  deacon  had  gained  the  steps  of  his  own  home, 
crying,  '  O  Lord  I  O  Lord  !     Have  I  come  to  this?' 

"  Talk  of  miracle  cures  !  He  was  not  lame  again  for  years  ;  but  alas  !  his 
influence  as  a  deacon  was  ever  after  greatly  impaired.  (Let  me  snuff  the 
candle  again.) 

"  Pierre  inherited  a  love  of  liquor;  he  learned  to  drink  at  the  huskings,  and 
this  became  the  poor  boy's  weakness.  He  was  invited  to  all  the  merry-makings 
to  sing  the  French  Canadian  songs,  but  he  usually  came  home  light-headed, 
and  I  at  last  forbade  him  to  accept  all  invitations.  I  hated  to  do  so,  for  we  all 
loved  Pierre.     For  a  time  he  obeyed  me. 

"  Years  passed.  Pierre  took  to  his  old  ways,  and  1  could  not  restrain  him. 
At  the  huskings,  on  Thanksgivings,  and  at  Christmases,  Pierre  was  sure  to  get 
intoxicated.  He  was  always  penitent  after  these  humiliating  days,  and  often 
promised  reformation,  but  his  will-power  seemed  unequal  to  his  resolution. 
I  almost  dreaded  the  coming  of  the  merry-makings  and  holidays  for  his  sake. 
(Let  me  snufl"the  candle;    it  burns  well  now.) 

"  The  village  Squire'^i  name  was  Jeffrey.  He  was  an  odd  character,  and  did 
many  things  unbecoming  the  debt  that  he  owed  to  a  dignified  profession  ;  but  I 
one  day  carried  the  burden  of  poor  Pierre's  infirmities  to  him,  and  asked  him 
his  advice. 

"  '  Can  he  be  reformed?  '  asked  L 

"  '  Of  course  he  can,'  said  he.  'Any  man  can  reform  if  he  have  a  sufificient 
motive.  The  slattern  is  not  a  slattern  when  she  has  a  beau ;  tell  any  man  that 
you  will  give  him  one  thousand  dollars  to  keep  from  his  besetting  vice  for  a 
month,  and  he  can  do  it.  A  man  in  love  rises  above  all  his  temptations,  and 
a  sudden  opportunity  to  make  money  will  for  the  time  make  the  weakest  charac- 
ter as  virtuous  in  his  acts  as  is  the  strongest.  A  frightened  man  always  loses 
his  temptations.'  ,    . 

"  '  But  what  would  you  do  in  the  case  of  Pierre? ' 

"  '  When  you  find  him  drunk  again,  send  for  me.' 

"  There  was  a  Guinea  negro  who  lived  with  the  lawyer,  very  old,  named 
Methuselah,  but  commonly  called  Methuselum.  One  day,  before  Christmas, 
Squire  Jeffrey  and  Methuselum  were  riding  by  and  saw  Pierre  under  the 
orchard  wall  stupidly  drunk.  The  lawyer  stopped  the  carriage  and  fastened 
the  horse,  and  the  two  took  up  the  stertorous  body  of  the  poor  boy  and  car- 
ried it  into  the  barn.  It  was  near  night,  the  short  red  twilight  of  the  white 
winter  day.     (I  must  snuff  thv.  candle  again.) 


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STOJi/ES  OF   THE   CANADIAN  RIVER  SONGS. 


191 


"  I  saw  what  Squire  Jeffrey  was  doino-,  and  I  di'evv  over  me  my  thick  shawl 
and  went  to  the  barn.  The  Squire  had  gone  into  the  tool-room,  and  was  taking 
the  rubbish  out  of  the  old  broken  sea-chest. 

"  '  What  are  you  going  to  do,  Squire?  ' 

"  '  Reform  Pierre.  I  have  always  said  that  any  person  can  be  reformed  by 
a  sufficient  motive.  The  revival  preachers  all  understand  that.  Wesley  did  — 
Whitefield.' 

"  I  protested.  I  have  no  faitli  in  tricks  of  any  kind,  and  fear  is  not  the 
most  powerful  and  permanent  motive. 

"  He  laid  an  old  horse-blanket  in  the  chest. 

"  '  Methuselum,'  said  he,  '  help  me  lift  the  boy  into  the  chest.' 

"  They  did  so,  and  wrapped  him  in  the  blanket,  and  the  Squire  closed  the 
Hd,  putting  a  cob  under  it  so  as  to  leave  a  sufficient  place  for  breathing. 

"'Now,  Methuselum,'  said  he,  '  I  want  you  to  watch  by  the  chest,  and 
strictly  follow  my  directions.' 

"  '  Yes,  sah.'     I  can  hear  his  broad  tone  now. 

"  *  First,  let  me  fix  you.' 

"  '  Yes,  sah.     Do  as  you  say,  Massa.' 

"The  Squire  took  down  the  beefs  hide  and  horns  which  hung  in  the  room, 
and  put  it  over  Methuselum,  so  that  the  horns  might  project  from  the  negro'.-, 
head,  and  the  hoofs  be  conspicuous. 

"  *  There,'  said  he,  placing  a  broktai  chair  near  the  chest  a  few  feet  away, 
'  you  sit  down  here,  and  when  the  boy  wakes  up,  you  stare  at  him,  and  grin 
at  him,  so,  and  so,  and  SO  !  He  does  not  know  you,  and  when  he  begins  to  ask 
questions,  you  tell  him  that  you  are  Lucifer,  and  that  he  is  in  Tophet.' 

"  '  Yes,  sah.     Dat  I  will ;   all  them  things,  sure.' 

"  •  I  will  hide  and  do  the  rest.' 

"'  Oh,  Squire,'  said  I,  '  this  docs  n't  seem  right.  You  will  never  reform  poor 
Pierre  in  any  such  way  as  this.  Fear  is  not  a  sufficient  motive  for  the  reforma- 
tion of  any  one.  There  is  only  one  power  in  all  the  world  that  will  conquer 
evil  habits,  and  that  is  love.  Pierre  has  a  heart;  reach  that,  and  you  may 
change  him.' 

"  '  Bring  me  a  candle  for  Methuselum,'  said  the  Squire.  '  and  some  of  that 
medical  phosphorus  from  the  house.' 

"  I  <'i!d  so.  Phosphorus  had  begun  to  be  a  popular  medicine  at  this 
time.  * 

"  The  candle  was  lighted,  and  set  down  near  Methuselum.  The  phospho- 
rus was  rubbed  over  the  palms  of  the  negro's  hands. 

"  '  When  he  begins  to  wake,'  said  the  Squire,  '  rub  your  hands  over  your 


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192 


ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS  IN  THE   GREAT  NORTHWEST. 


face.     Remember,  you  are  Lucifer.     Do  as  I  have  told  you.     You  go  away, 
Miss  Smart,  and  I  will  wake  him.' 

"  It  was  quite  dark  now.  The  shaded  candle  shed  a  dim  light  about  the 
room,  and  old  Methuselum,  with  his  black  face  and  luminous  hands,  great 
mouth  and  cow's  feet,  was  indeed  a  fearful-looking  object.  To  complete  the 
.'iwful  figure,  the  Squire  put  a  cone-like  eel-basket  on  the  top  of  his  head, 
and  rubbed  phosphorus  over  it,  so  that  it  looked  like  a  fool's  cap  of  fireless 
light. 

•' '  Now,'  he  said,  '  I  am  going  to  wake  Pierre.' 

"  He  pounded  upon  the  chest,  I  stepped  into  one  dark  corner  of  the  room, 
and  the  Squire  into  another.'  .        ' 

"  There  was  a  stertorous  breathing  in  the  chest,  but  no  response. 

"The  Squire  raised  the  lid  of  the  chest  and  shook  the  boy,  then  closed  it 
again  on  the  cob. 

"  A  half-hour  passed  in  waiting,  with  several  attempts  to  awaken  the  boy, 
when  a  movement  was  heard  in  the  chest,  and  a  pitiful  wail,  '  Where  am  I?  ' 

"  Then  the  lid  of  the  chest  began  to  be  slowly  raised  in  the  shadow,  very 
slowly.  It  dropped  down  again,  and  we  heard  a  groan  of  terror.  Then  all 
was  still. 

"  The  lid  was  slowly  raised  again.  The  poor  boy's  eyes  ventured  to  look 
again  on  the  awful  object  watching  over  him  in  the  shadows.  T  could  see  his 
hand  tremble  as  he  held  up  the  lid. 

"  '  You  —  sur,'  said  Methuselum,  plastering  his  face  with  the  phosphorus. 

"  '  You     -  sur,'  repeated  Methuselum. 

*'  Pierre  dropped  the  lid  in  terror.  We  could  hear  him  praying  in  a  dazed 
and  bewildered  way.  I  wished  to  rush  forward  and  break  the  delusion,  for  I 
have  no  sympathy  with  deceptions  of  any  kind. 

"  The  lid  was  cautiously  raised  again.  Methuselum,  all  aglow  with  phospho- 
rus, now  met  the  bursting  eyes  of  the  boy.  The  negro,  in  the  strange  light, 
with  his  horns,  hat,  hoofs,  and  open  mouth,  presented  the  most  terrifying  object 
that  I  ever  saw. 

"  'You  —  sur?' 

"  Say,  '  Down,  Calcfif;  what  would  you  have?'  mumbled  the  Squire. 

"'Down,  Caleff;  what  would  you  have?'  said  Methuselum,  like  a  spectre 
of  darkness  and  fire,  his  white  teeth  grinning  as  if  gloating  over  the  ruin  of 
human  souls. 

"  'Where  am  I?'  ,    • 

"The  negro,  following  his  master's  instructions,  played  the  cruel  part  well, 
and  represented  himself  as  the  Spirit  of  Evil,  as  he  indeed  looked  in  the  thick 


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STORIES   OF   THE  CA.WAT)IA\  RIVER  SONGS. 


195 


•A 


and  uncertain  shadows.  The  Squire  !»eeiiiecl  j^reatly  amused,  but  1  had  too 
much  pity  and  sympathy  for  the  boy  to  care  for  anything  but  his  rescue  from 
sucli  a  perilous  fright. 

"  Pierre  fell  back  again,  overcome  for  a  moment  b}'  these  exciting  shadow 
scenes.  What  beings  surrounded  hinir'  He  was  uncertain,  in  the  low  light 
and  his  clouded  brain.  At  last  we  heard  a  movement  in  the  chest  again,  fol- 
lowed by  the  chink  of  an  eni|>ty  bottle,  possibly  in  his  pocket.  The  sound 
evidently  awakened  his  old  ;iopetite.  We  heard  him  mutter,  '  It  is  no  use.' 
Temptation  was  on  him  -  .ain,  <ven  ami.l  all  these  fearful  uncertainties.  Temp- 
tation, without  love,  wituout  hope.  Heaven  pity  the  man  to  whom  the  evil  hour 
comes  in  this  way  ! 

"The  lid  of  the  chest  began  to  lift  again,  slowly,  slowly.  A  white  hand  rose 
out  of  it  in  the  grewsome  candl''-light,  and  in  it  was  a  bottle. 

"  He  gazed  on  Methusehini. 

"  '  Say  —  come  here,'  he  said  tremblingly.  '  I  want  to  go  to  sleep  —  to 
sleep  forever.  May  my  poor  old  mother  never  know !  She  loved  me,  and  I 
would  have  died  for  her.  Come  here.  Can  you,  can  you  tell  nie  how  I  can 
get  this  bottle  filled  once  more?' 

"  I  saw  the  bottle  waving  to  and  fro,  glittering.  1  could  endure  the  scene 
no  longer,  but  rushed   forward  to  the  chest. 

"  '  Oh,  Pierre,  Pierre  !  '  I  said,  '  have  you  come  to  this?  Can  it  be  possible 
that  your  soul  is  enslaved  by  drink  like  that?     Oh,  Pierre  ! '  " 

"  Squire  Jeffrey  was  furious. 

" '  Miss  Experience,'  said  he,  '  you  may  see  in  ///w  an  utterly  hopeless  soul. 
No  power  on  earth  can  ever  break  the  habits  that  hold  him.  He  is  as  much 
enchained  by  evil  as  though  his  fate  was  already  fixed.  Boy,  get  out  of 
that  chest !  ' 

"  He  seized  Pierre  and  shook  him." 

Aunt  Experience  gave  a  glance  at  the  candle.  She  saw  it  was  burning  near 
the  powder-qu'll,  and  moved  away  from  it.  "  He  shook  him  so"  she  continued, 
laying  her  hanos  on  one  after  another  of  the  boys,  so  as  to  direct  attention  away 
from  the  candle,  that  the  explosion  might  come  unexpected,  and  be  the  greater 
surprise.  "  And  old  Methuselum  rose  up  soT  Aunt  was  acting  now.  She 
moved  her  arms  about  as  though  to  represent  the  confusion  of  the  tool-room, 
and  to    make  the  mental  atmosphere  as  nervous  as  possible. 

Flash  ! 

There  was  a  sulphurous  explosion,  followed  by  a  chorus  of  shrieks.  The 
powder-candle  had  gone  ofif.  The  rooms  were  filled  with  powder-smoke,  and 
poor  Pierre  was  for  the  time  forgotten.     Laughter  and  cries,  jokes,  ki.sses,  and 


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196 


ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS  IN  THE  GREAT  NORTHWEST 


m 

ii  \ 


all  kinds  of  antics  followed,  and  when  the  air  cleared,  apples  and  coffee  were 
brought  out,  and  the  boys  and  girls  were  provided  with  a  candy-pull.  The 
black  fiddlers  played  the  Virginia  Reel,  and  Money  Musk,  and  Fisher's 
Hornpipe,  and  the  Devil's  Dream,  and  the  merry-making  lasted  until  the 
hands  of  the  old  English  clock  pointed  to  midnight.  Then  voices  chorussed 
"  Merry  Christmas,"  and  all  went  home  under  the  crystal  stars  of  the  frosty 
morning. 

The  excitement  that  followed  the  explosion  of  the  powder-candle,  and  the 
candy-pull  and  merry-making,  had  led  us  all  for  the  time  to  forget  the 
fate  of  poor  Pierre.  As  soon  as  the  last  sleigh-bells  had  died  away  in  the 
snowy  roads,  the  French  boy's  incomplete  history  recurred  to  me.  I  returned 
to  Aunt  Experience  as  she  stood  before  the  dying  embers  of  the  great  logs 
and  said,  — ■ 

"  Did  the  Squire's  experiment  reform  Pierre?  " 

*'  No,"  said  she,  "  but  another  experience  did." 

"  Tell  me,"  said  I. 

"  I  will  to-morrow  night,"  she  said.     "  It  is  too  late  now." 

The  same  question  on  the  morrow  seemed  to  have  come  to  the  minds  of  a 
number  of  the  guests,  for  the  next  evening  several  people  called,  and  each  asked 
Aunt  Experience  the  same  question,  —  "  What  became  of  Pierre?  " 

The  Christmas  night  came  with  a  cloud  of  snow.  The  winds  whistled  about 
the  corners  of  the  house  and  down  the  great  chimneys,  and  we  were  glad  that 
the  interrupted  story  of  the  merry  evening  before  was  to  be  continued ;  for  with 
all  his  weaknesses  there  was  something  in  the  history  of  Pierre  that  had 
won  our  hearts. 

"  Poor  Pierre,"  continued  Aunt  Experience,  "  was  n't  reformed  by  his  expe- 
rience in  the  old  carved  sea-chest.  Deception  and  terror  do  not  change  one's 
nature.  Only  love  does  that,  —  a  sense  of  love,  human  and  Divine.  The  Squire's 
theory  was  right,  although  he  was  so  swift  to  lose  confidence  in  it  after  his 
unfruitful  experiment. 

"The  quickening  power  came  to  Pieire  at  last  like  a  good  angel,  and  ful- 
filled all  his  bette:r  desires,  and  enabled  him  to  live  his  better  and  his  true 
self;   for  our  better  selves  are  our  ideals. 

"  One  day  there  came  to  the  boy  a  letter  from  Montreal.  It  told  him  that 
his  father  was  dead,  and  said  that  the  dream  of  his  old  mother's  heart  was  that 
he  would  let  her  come  to  him. 

"  He  brought  the  letter  to  mc. 

"  '  My  poor  <jld  mother!  '  he  said.  '  T  would  do  anything  for  her;  my  heart 
bleeds.     Miss  I^xpericnco,  if  you  will  let  me  bring  her  here.  T  will  never  drink 


i 


l'^  '   /' 

^^     ''1 

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■     ■■■•   .r     '         '''i 

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:  :l  iiiTiihTirinrrTiTT^"^ ~«^<^ 


STORIES  OF  THE   CANADIAN  RIVER  SONGS. 


199 


t 


a  drop  of  liquor  again  as  long  as  I  live,  —  indeed,  I  will  not.  I  love  my  mother. 
I  will  do  anything  for  one  I  love;  I  would  die  for  such  a  one,  Miss  Experience. 
You  think  me  weak  and  bad,  and  have  given  me  up  to  my  failings ;  but  there 
are  some  people  that  I  love  better  than  myself.' 

"  *  But,  Pierre,  the  fright  of  the  old  barn  chest  did  not  give  you  any  will- 
power, or  correct  your  ways.  How  can  I  be  sure  that  the  care  of  your  mother 
would? ' 

"  '  That  was  a  cold,  heartless  trick  and  deception,'  said  Pierre. 

"  '  But  suppose  I  were  to  allow  you  to  bring  your  old  mother  here,  and  you 
were  to  fill  her  last  days  with  double  sorrow  by  drinking  again?  ' 

"  '  No,  before  God,  Miss  Experience,  that  shall  never  be !  Unless  some 
one  tell  her,  she  shall  never  know  that  I  ever  drank  at  all.  I  love  my  mother; 
and  oh,  it  would  make  me  so  happy  to  make  her  happy  in  her  old  age.  She 
had  such  a  hard  life  with  father.  I  have  seen  her  go  hungry  for  days;  and  I 
have  seen  him  strike  her,  I  have.  I  am  sorr}-  I  have  inherited  his  weakness, 
but,  Miss  Experience,  I  have  prayed  and  struggled  for  deliverance  a  hundred 
times,  and  when  I  woke  up  in  the  old  barn  chest  I  thought  that  God  must  be 
dead.  Give  me  a  chance  to  follow  my  better  heart  now,  and  you  shall  never 
see  me  drunk  again.' 

"  'But  where  would  you  live,  Pierre? ' 

"  '  Oh,  let  me  hire  two  rooms  of  you  in  the  old  house  under  the  hill ;  you 
say  that  you  would  tear  it  down,  only  that  you  were  cradled  there.  We  would 
be  so  happy,  and  it  would  make  you  happy  in  your  prayers  to  think  you  had 
reformed  me.  Would  n't  you  like  to  be  happy  with  your  prayers?  I  think 
that  would  be  the  greatest  happiness  on  earth.' 

"  I  hesitated. 

"  '  Miss  Experience,  I  have  struggled ;  my  soul  has  struggled  in  the  night, 
i  wish  I  were  a  spirit,  for  spirits  can  have  their  desires,  and  we  poor  creatures 
cannot.  Oh,  I  wish  you  could  see  my  true  heart!  You  would  know  that  I 
am  uot  bad  there.' 

"I  sat  in  silence.  How  beautiful  he  looked,  —  his  dark  eyes  and  his  fine 
form  !     The  silence  became  painful. 

"  He  at  last  looked  up  to  mc  and  said,  repeating  a  part  of  the  Pauline 
apostrophe:  '"Charity  believeth  all  things,  hopeth  all  things,  and  thinketh 
no  evil.  It  sufifereth  long  and  is  kind."  Miss  Experience,'  he  added,  with  a 
sudden  flow  of  spirits,  '  let  me  sing  you  a  song.' 

"  His  anxiety  passed  away  like  an  vXpril  cloud,  and  he  sang  in  French  the 
queer  old  ballad  of '  Dans  les  Prisons  de  Nantes.'  or  how  the  jailer's  daughter 
helped   a  handsome  young  prisoner  to  escape.     The  words  themselves  were 


iP5 

m 


p.  t 


h 


200 


ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS  IN  THE   GREAT  NORTHWEST. 


a  ripple  of  music,  and  the  story  had  an  ending  which  put  one  into  the  best 
heart. 

'  Dans  les  prisons  de  Nantes  ', 

Lui  y  a-t-un  prisonnier,  gai,  faluron,  falurette, 

Lui  y  a-t-un  prisonnier,  gai,  faluron.  donde. 

'  Que  personn'  ne  va  voir 
Que  la  fill'  du  geolier,  gai,  faluron,  falurette, 
Que  la  fill' du  ge61ier,  gai,  faluron,  donde.' 


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"He  laughed  when  this  song-story  was  over  and  the  last  'falurette'  had 
melted  in  air.  His  sympathetic  manner  engaged  my  heart  in  spite  of  its  hard- 
ness, and  I  grew  so  human  that  I  said, — 

"  '  Well,  Pierre,  you  may  let  her  cotne.'  ' 

"  '  Oh,  Miss  Experience,  you  are  so  good !  the  world  is  all  \sunlight 
now,  — 

"  Ouand  il  fut  sur  ces  cotes 
II  se  mit  ^  chanter,  gai,  faluron,  fiilurette,  * 

11  se  mit  Ji  chanter,  faluron,  donde  : 

"  Que  Dieu  b^niss'  les  filles, 
-         .  Surtout  cell'  geolier,  gai,  faluron,  falurette, 

Surtout  cell'  du  geolier,  gai,  faluron,  donde. 

"  Si  jc  retourne  h.  Nantes, 
Oui,  jc  I'espouserai!  gai,  faluron,  falurette, 
Oui,  je  I'espouserai  !  gai,  faluron,  donde."  ' 

"  One  September  day,  when  the  golden-rods  were  fading,  and  the  apples 
were  mellowing,  and  the  locusts  piping  in  tlic  still  sunlight  that  was  an  ocean 
of  golden  lustre,  the  stage-coach  came  rattling  down  to  the  village,  past  the 
red  orchards,  yellow  cornfields,  and  rowened  meadows,  and  left  a  single  pas- 
senger there. 

"  It  was  the  old  mother  of  Pierre. 

"  Me  went  for  her  with  a  wheelbarrow,  his  face  full  of  delight.  The  farm 
horses  and  wagons  were  all  away.  So,  like  the  hero  of  the  nursery  rhyme,  he 
brought  her  home  in  a  wheelbarrow,  but  without  any  such  disaster  as  that 
related  in  the  old  ditty. 

**  A  little  woman  sl;e  was,  decrepit,  but  with  a  very  refined  and  .sytnpathctic 
face,  and  manners  all  vivacity  and  grace.  It  seemed  to  make  her  perfectly 
happy  only  to  look  at  Pierre. 


STORIES  or    THE   CANADIAN  RIVEN  SONGS. 


20I 


"  Pierre  began  to  work  on  the  farm  with  new  fidcHty.  Me  had  a  care  for 
everything.  How  faithful  he  was !  Training-day  came;  he  did  not  go  to  the 
parade,  but  remained  at  home  with  his  old  mother,  and  they  had  a  httlc  spread 
of  peaches  and  cream  and  melons  and  election  cake.  Training-day  used  to  be 
one  of  special  temptation  to  Pierre. 


THE   ROCKV   MOUNTAINS   FROM   F.LBOW   RIVF.K. 


% 

m 


:i. 


"  The  huskings  came.  He  went  and  sang  ballads  as  of  old,  and  delighted 
the  young  with  the  old  French  boatmen's  melody,  '  En  Roulant  ma  Boule,'  the 
paddle-song  of  the  Ottawa.  But  when  liquor  was  passed  around,  he  always 
said  '  Merci, —  T  do  not  drink  any  more;  mother,  j^ou  know  —  excuses.'  If 
one  tempted   him  further,  he  would  break  into,  — 


'  Rouli,  roulant.  ma  boule  roulant. 
En  roulant  ma  boule  roulant, 
En  roulant  ma  boule,' 

and  the  tempter  would  lose  his  purpose  in  the  pleasantry. 

"  Thanksgiving  came  with  rustic  merry-makings,  and  Christmas  with  boun- 
tiful dinners  and  musical  nights,  but  none  of  the  mcrr\'-tnakings  brought  a 
drop  of  liquor  to  the  lips  of  Pierrr.  When  T  c.illed  on  his  mother  on  my  way 
to   the  village,  she   once  said,  '  (lod   bless  vou   for  being  so  good  to  Pierre ;    it 


\  i' 


202 


ZIGZAG  JOURNEVS  IN  THE  GREAT  NORTHWEST 


takes  but  little  to  make  life  happy,  if  that  little  is  love.     A  golden  heart  has 
Pierre,  and  I  think  it  has  been  touched  by  Heaven,  like  an  altar.     A  singing 
heart  is  the  most  beautiful  altar  in  the  world;  you  have  made  two  hearts  sing. 
Pierre  and  I  share  such  thoughts   as   these  between   us.     This  is  a  beautif" 
world.' 


^    —•,»*;. 


■■^Sw-^s: 


"  In  the   winter 
the    old     F  r  e  n  c  h- 
woman  died.    How  Pierre 
wept    as    they   laid    her 
away    under    the    snow! 
'  He    will    return    to    his 
old  ways  now,'  said  every 
one.      But    he    did   not. 
There  came  another  suf- 
ficient    motive,  —  sym- 
pathy. 

"  The  spring  brought 
the     great     epidemic    of 

typhoid  fever,  that  desolated  the  town.  Pierre  did  not  fear  it  at  first,  but  as 
case  after  case  proved  fatal,  it  became  difficult  to  obtain  watchers  to  take  care 
of  the  sick.  The  best  watch  .r  in  the  town  was  Pierre.  Night  after  night  the 
boy  might  be  seen  going  to  some  sick-room,  and  for  two  months  his  nights 
were  passed  in  the  atmosphere  of  the  pestilence.  He  was  ;u)  feeling,  gentle, 
and  tender!  He  anticipated  every  want.  Everybody  spoke  grateful!}- of  him, 
even  Squire  Jeffrey. 

"  But  one  day,  amid  the  early  blooms  of  Ma>',  the  report  went  round  that 
Pierre  had  become  exhausted,  and  was  Iving  in  the  old  house  sick  and  alone. 


A   VIEW   ON   THE   ELBOW    KIVER. 


6T0Ji/ES  OF   THE   CANADIAX  RIVER  SONGS. 


203 


% 


■'1  ■" 


Our  own  home  was  full  of  sickness  and  anxiety,  but  I  sent  the  doctor  to  see 
Pierre,  and  he  returned  witii  the  dread  announcement,  '  Me  has  the  fever.' 

"  There  was  no  one  to  take  care  of  him  in  the  condition  of  affairs.  I  sent  a 
farm  hand  to  see  him  three  times  a  day,  and  I  visited  him  each  evenint,^  and 
administered  medicines.  I  have  never  met  such  a  soul  as  his,  and  I  shall  never 
forget  those  evening  visits. 

"  '  Miss  Experience,'  he  said,  '  1  am  going  to  die.  It  makes  me  so  happy 
to  think  that  the  Lord  is  willing  to  take  me  now;  I  might  fall  into  my  old  ways 
again.  Last  night  I  had  a  dream.  Miss  Experience.  I  thought  I  saw  a  great 
cross  uplifted  in  the  western  sky,  and  the  cross  was  pearl.  That  was  a  good 
dream.  This  is  the  month  of  May,  a  good  time  to  go  away,  —  and  I  am  going 
soon.     But,  oh,  I  pity  the  tempted  !  ' 

"  He  grew  worse,  and  was  delirious  for  weeks.  He  fancied  that  he  was  in 
the  old  barn  chest.     One  day,  in  a  sudden  return  of  reason,  he  said  to  me,  — 

"  '  Miss  Experience,  when  I  am  gone,  let  the  old  Quaker  minister  come 
and  say  "Our  Father."  He  needn't  say  anything  more.  Why  should  he  for 
Pierre?  God  will  take  care  of  me.  Miss  Experience,  Heaven  loves  me,  and 
I  have  overcome  the  world.' 

"  One  day  the  hired  man  came  running  with  the  message,  '  Pierre  i:^ 
dying,  and  he   wants  to  see  Miss  Experience.' 

"  I  hurried  away  to  the  old  house,  and  stopped  to  breathe,  before  I  entered, 
under  the  blooming  cherry-trees.  It  was  a  beautiful  morning.  The  old 
orchards  were  loaded  with  flowers  and  humming  with  bees;  every  breeze 
scatterec'  over  the  cool,  green  sod  drifts  of  apple-blooms.  The  cherry-trees 
were  white  and  the  peach-trees  red.  Bluebirds  were  flitting  in  the  woods,  and 
orioles  flaming  among  the  sun-filled  elms.  Oh,  it  did  seem  dreadful  that  a 
young  life  should  go  out  into  mystery  amid  scenes  like  these ! 

"  I  entered  the  room.  He  lay  there,  amid  the  sickening  odors  of  the  fever, 
a  breeze  from  the  orchard  blossoms  now  and  then  stealing  over  him.  A 
humming-bird  darted  in  at  the  open  window  and  out  again. 

"  His  face  lighted  up  with  gratitude. 

"  '  Oh,  Miss  Experience,  T  am  glad  you  have  come,'  said  he.  '  It  is  a 
beautiful  morning,  and   1   am  going  away  soon.     Miss  h^xpcrience.' 

"  '  Well,  Pierre.' 

"'Did  you  ever  think  that  new  horizons  come  to  you  wherever  you  go; 
they  are  lifting,  lifting,  lifting, — those  curtains  of  heaven.' 

"'Yes,  Pierre.' 

"  '  I  am  dying.  Miss  ICxperience,  and  new  horizons  are  lifting.  I  think  that 
it  will  always  be   so,  forever  and  ever.     The  same  hand  made  both  heavenly 


I 


1  > 


204 


ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS  IN  THE  GREAT  NORTHWEST. 


m 


flowers  and  these.  This  is  the  month  of  May,  and  I  am  going  away  into  God's 
great  shining  gardens.     I  shall  be  with  mother  to-night.' 

"  His  spiritual  eye  seemed  to  receive  light.  He  looked  upward,  and  his 
soul  seemed  to  glow  through  his  thin  white  face,  like  a  golden  lamp  in  a  vase 
of  alabaster. 

•' '  Miss  Experience  ! ' 

" '  Well,  Pierre.' 

"'The  pearl  cross  *Lat  I  saw, —  I  hope  it  was  meant  for  all  poor  souls. 
1  love  everybody.  Miss  Experience.'  « 

'"Well." 

"  '  Put  over  me  a  wooden  cross.  Put  I.  H.  S,  on  it;  that  means  more  to 
me  than  you  can  see  now.     You  will  see  more  when  the  horizon  lifts,  Miss 


I 


ONE   OF   THE   HUDSON   HAY   COMPANY'S    STATIONS. 


Experience,  and  you  wait  by  the  doors  in  the  morning.  And  put  on  it,  —  put 
on  it,  "  Pierre  and  his  Mother.'" 

"  The  cool  May  breezes  came  in,  and  the  room  was  full  of  the  echoes  of 
bird-song  everywhere. 

"  His  face  changed.  His  eyes  grew  lustreless,  and  there  followed  a  deep 
breathing,  slower  and  slower.  A  perspiration  spread  over  his  face ;  then  there 
was  a  tremor  in  his  hands.  The  beautiful  eyes  became  fixed.  I  wiped  away 
the  sweat,  and  kissed  his  forehead.  His  breathing  became  mechanical.  His 
breath  was  cold,  and  I  thought  he  was  gone. 

"  But  he  seemed  to  retiu'n  to  the  world  again. 

"  '  Miss  Experience,'  he  said,  as  if  waking  from  a  dream,  '  the  horizon  —  the 
horizon  is  lifting.     It  is  brighter  fceyond.     I  cannot  see  you,  Miss  ICxpcrience, 


STOAVES   or   THE   CAA'ADf/hV  Rll'ER   SONGS. 


205 


but  I  can  see.  Everything  is  growing  clear.  I  see  the  pearl  cross  lifting, 
lifting  —  '  ^ 

"  He  felt  for  my  hand.  1  took  his.  There  was  a  flutter  of  breath,  and  his  lips 
parted  motionless,  but  the  power  to  close  them  seemed  to  have  gone  forever. 
But  they  trembled  again ;  the  tide  of  life  flowed  back  on  the  shining  sand  once 
more. 

" '  Miss  Experience,  you  do  pity  me,  don't  you?  ' 

"  '  Yes,  Pierre.' 

"  '  But  I  am  happy  here,'  —  his  white  hand  fell  on  his  heart. 

'  Je  me  reveille,  * 

Je  vois  mon  J^su  venir. 

'  When  I  ;iWcike, 
My  .Saviour  near  I  see, 
Most  wonderfully  beautiful ; 
'T  is  he  who  wakens  me  : 
...        C'est  J^su  ! 
C'est  Jdsu! 
Mon  aimable  J^su  ! ' 

"  He  seemed  lost  in  happy  dreams.  Then  the  old  French  mariners'  melody 
that  he  had  heard  Sv^mewhere,  and  that  had  ever  haunted  his  poetic  mind,  came 
back  again,  — 

'  Ses  pieds,  ses  mains,'  etc. 

'  His  feet,  his  hands  are  pierced. 
And  to  his  forehead  clings 
A  crown  of  thorns.     Oh,  think,  my  heart, 
What  dreadful  sufferings  ! 
C'est  J^su  ! ' 

"  An  angel's  wing  passed,  —  so  it  seemed  to  my  fancy.  The  last  flutter  of 
the  soul  came. 

"'Pierre!' 

"  The  room  was  silent,  the  lips  silent,  the  face  silent. 

"  '  Pierre  ! ' 

"  The  birds  were  singing  in  the  orchards  and  woodland  pastures  ;  the  flowers 
were  blooming  everywhere,  and  the  breezes  winging  amid  buds  and  balms. 

"  I  closed  his  eyes,  crossed  his  hands,  and  covered  him  with  a  sheet.  The 
inward  struggle  was  over,  the  outward,  —  where,  oh,  where,  ye  celestial  hori- 
zons  of  God  ?  " 


Hi! 

w 


» 


I 


■JA 


W: 


1   *l 


'M: 


CHAPTER   IX. 


BANFF 


MONG  pyramids  older  than  the   Pyramids!     Lift  your 
eyes  ten  thousand  feet.     See  Cascade  Mountain  flow- 
ing with   crystals ;    note    the  solitary  bird  whose  gray 
wing   encircles    the    peak.       On  what  an  upheaval    of 
rocky  temples  its  eye  looks  down  ! 
But  the   Bow  River;  will  it  compare  with  Lucerne  and  the  clear 
waters  of  Uri }     The  Swiss  lakes  are  purple,  but  the  Bow  is  green. 
Both   Lucerne  and  Banff  are  as  wonderful  for  the  clearness  of  their 
waters  as  for  the  height  of  their  mountains. 

But  the  Hot  Springs  of  Banff;  what  are  they?  What  is  Sulphur 
Mountain  ?  It  is  a  mountain  that  pours  hot  sulphur-water,  clear  and 
gold-like,  from  its  sides.  Where  is  this  water  heated  ?  Only  theory 
can  answer.  How  ?  Only  theory  can  speak  again.  Far  up  the 
mountain  it  pours  forth.  What  volcanic  caverns  and  wells  are 
below  them  ?  No  eye  has  seen  ;  no  one  can  tell.  People  come  to 
this  volcano  land  and  go,  but  know  no  more  of  what  is  beneath  them 
than  of  what  is  in  the  stars  above  them.  One  stands  by  the  yellow 
stones  of  the  mid-mountain  hot  springs,  and  feels  that  the  earth,  like 
life,  is  a  mystery. 

No  carved  Lion  of  Lucerne  is  here ;  but  what  is  the  Pool  of  which 
one  hears  ?  Let  us  go  and  see.  A  house,  a  covered  passage,  lights, 
and  a  roof  of  stalactites  ;  a  great  well,  clear  as  glass,  through  which 
bubbles  rise  out  of  the  earth.  Look  down,  —  fairy-land.  Look  up,  — 
a  dome  of  gems. 


a: 
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209 


How  bcautiiLil  is  Spray  River,  glacier  fed !  How  glorious  is  the 
cascade  of  the  emerald  Bow  River  under  the  very  balconies  of  the 
great  hotel !  One  may  hear  the  eternal  music  of  the  waterfall  here, — 
the  symphony  of  the  glaciers,  the  chorus  of  the  hills,  but  not  at 
Lucerne. 

A  few  miles  ride,  what  peaks  appear!  The  Inglismaldie,  Peechee, 
more  than  ti-ii  thousand  feet  high.  Yonder  we  may  reach  the 
Vermilion  Lakes,  or  Devil's  Head  Lake  with  its  fifteen  miles  of 
glacier  splendors. 

But  we  cling  to  the  Bow.  "  And  he  shewed  me  a  pure  river  of 
water  of  life,  clear  as  crystal."  The  Bow  is  a  water  rainbow.  The 
red  or  pink  phlox  covers  its  banks  with  flowers,  —  red,  blue,  emerald; 
the  sun  adds  gold.  Where  are  we }  Shall  we  stay,  or  back  to  the 
common  world  again.? 

A  bird  flies  swiftly  over  the  broken  wall  of  the  sky.  A  gray 
cloud  shows  its  head.  It  sails  up,  and  darkens;  there  is  a  rush  of 
cool  winds  through  the  gorges  The  cloud  puts  out  the  sun.  There 
is  an  electric  gleam  across  it.  Hark,  it  thunders  I  not  as  from  a 
cloud  overhead.  The  mountains  thunder ;  gleam  follows  gleam. 
The  cloud  marches  on ;  great  shadows  fall  evervwhere ;  it  lightens 
again ;  the  cloud  bursts  ;  there  falls  a  deluge  amid  a  thick  darkness, 
illumined  by  fiery  flashes.  But  a  sky  all  roses  breaks  where  the 
cloud  first  appeared. 

On  the  retreating  cloud  is  a  rainbow  —  two — broken  parts  of 
many.  How  cool  is  the  air !  What  a  sense  of  rest  and  trust 
is  in  it  ! 

The  cloud  is  withdrawn  at  last  and  the  stars  are  left.  An 
hour  or  two  passes.  On  the  glaciers  there  rises  a  great  circle  of 
silver  fire.  The  valley  fills  with  a  dim  light,  a  live  mysterious  splen- 
dor. The  moon  is  over  the  mountain  and  is  rising  amonof  the  stars. 
The  Bow  reflects  the  march  of  the  Night  Queen.  There  is  silence 
everywhere,  except  the  music  of  the  waterfalls.     Sleep  comes  easily 

14 


il'iri 


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.!   ■' 


111 


V'. 


mi 


2IO 


ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS  IN  THE  GREAT  NORTHWEST. 


m. 


Il 

p 

m 

m 

1,, 

Wi 

;        ^ 

w 

'  .1 

IHI 

1        )■ 

i        1 

in  this  rare  air.  We  turn  away  from  the  luminous  enchantment  ; 
we  seek  the  seclusion  of  the  great  hotel,  and  are  glad  to  rest  the 
overpowered  senses,  and  glide  away  in  dreams  to  those  fair  lands 
where  we  left  our  hearts  in  the  trust  of  others. 

Beauty  is  not  love,  and  to  be  perfectly  happy  one  must  see  beauty 
through  other  eyes  than  his  own. 

Ban'  lias  a  single  grand  hotel  and  several  small  inns.  A  part 
of  the  town  is  occupied  by  the  mounted  police.  These  handsome 
officers  would  have  a  lonely  time  were  it  not  for  amusements.  They 
are  as  a  rule  famous  as  story-tellers ;  they  love  music  and  in-door 
games  and  all  kinds  of  curious  diversions.  They  are  men  of  gallant 
bearing  and  high  intelligence.  They  provide  many  entertainments 
for  tourists  and  guests  at  the  hotel.  Later  on  we  will  give  you  some 
account  of  amusements  at   Banff. 

Our  travellers  stopped  three  days  at  Banff.  One  of  these  even- 
ings was  spent  on  the  balconies  of  Banff  Hotel  in  story-telling.  The 
Hioon  rose  over  the  mountains,  turning  them  into  crystal  palaces,  and 
the  cascade  made  music,  while  the  travellers'  narratives  pleased  the 
ear. 

It  was  agreed  that  each  guest  on  the  balcony  should  relate  the 
most  interesting  episode  of  travel  within  his  recent  experience.  The 
first  story  was  related  by  one  of  the  Canadian  mounted  police. 


\km 


piiii 


^1 


THE  LOG   HOTEL. 

Paul  Yates  was  a  lover  of  the  Rocky  Mountains.  Year  after  year  with  a 
party  of  young  friends  he  made  pedestrian  tours  through  the  plateaus  of 
Rrlti  h  Cohimbia,  among  the  stupendous  chimneys  of  the  Carboniferous  ages, 
usuallv  starting  from  Calgary,  going  through  the  Gap  and  down  the  winding 
valleys  and  canons  of  the  Bow  and  Wapta  rivers  to  the  Puget  Sound. 

Paul  was  a  young  man  of  good  principles  and  habits,  but  of  nervous  tem- 
perament and  a  very  active  imagination.  He  saw  everything  that  is  sublime 
in  Nature  in  the  mountains,  —  the  cloud  shadows,  the  sunset  fires  on  the  gla- 
ciers, the  colors  of  the   glacier  rivers    and    streams,  the  grizzly    bear    in    the 


i»  ■  '»^w«fr«.j:js»;?*«*K;.i;',if-fOTa«;- 


BANFF. 


211 


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m 


lii 


ill 


P 

■I 

Hi 
t 


i'  I 


■  i  -riti 


MOUNT   STKPHEN,    NKAR    THE   SUMMIT   OF   THE   ROCKIES. 


clefts  of  broken  volcanoes,  and  the  p^ray  cattle  wheclinc;  over  all.     I  have  seen 
tears  fill  his  eyes  as  he  jjazed  on  the  majestic  mountain-walls  of  the  Cascade 


■Jl 


.3 


4 


212 


ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS  IN  THE   GREAT  NORTHWEST. 


and  Gold  ranges,  on  Mounts  Hector  and  St.  Stephen.  He  had  a  poetic  mind, 
and  that  double  sight  which  is  the  gift  of  a  fine  nature.  These  qualities  were 
very  delightful  to  literary  people  and  artists,  but  seemed  quite  ridiculous  to  le.ss 
susceptible  folks. 

"  If  Paul  were  to  see  a  pussy  cat  in  a  fog,"  said  one  of  his  companions,  "  it 
would  be  a  tiger." 

"Say,  Paul,  you  never  saw  a  ghost  in  the  Rockies,  did  you?"  said  I  to 
him  one  day,  chaffing,  after  he  had  been  telling  me  about  some  wonderful 
cloud  shadows  on  the  Vermilion  Lakes  and   glacial   meadows. 

"  No;  but  I  once  had  an  experience  in  the  Rockies  that  was  more  fearful 
to  me  than  the  seeing  of  a  ghost,  were  there  such  a  thing,  could  have  been." 

"  What  was  it,  --  a  bear  out  blueberrying?  " 

"  No ;   I  might  call  it  my  other  self." 

"  Well,  I  declare,  Paul,  I  never  quite  understood  you.  So  you  have  more 
than  one  self.     Which  are  you  now?  " 

"  Myself  all  the  time,  now." 

"There  was  a  time,  then,  when  you  were  not  yourself,  but  some  other 
self?  Is  that  the  way  the  matter  stands?  Your  otiur  self!  I  declare,  Paul^ 
that  idea  is  too  good  to  keep ;  I  must  tell  the  schoolboys  about  it.  Hut  when 
was  it  you  were  your  other  self,  and  how?     Give  me  some  account  of  it." 

"  You  will  not  look  upon  the  matter  so  lightly  when  I  tell  you  my  story, 
although  the  adventure  has  a  comical  side  to  it.  Nothing  in  my  life  ever 
troubled  me  as  that  experience  did.  I  should  be  afraid  of  the  same  experience 
now,  had  I  not  learned  how  great  is  the  power  of  correct  habits  and  moral 
self-control.     I  will  tell  you. 

"  I  first  went  to  Banff  because  I  was  out  of  health.  I  had  a  cough,  was 
very  nervous,  and  the  doctor  said  that  I  had  a  chronic  follicular  disease,  and 
that  the  best  remedy  would  be  a  summer  at  the  Hot  Springs.  Life  in  the 
mountains  helps  one  jihysically,  mentally,  and  morally,  and  the  prescription 
was  not  a  hard  one  for  me  to  take. 

"  There  was  then  an  old  inn  near  Banff  which  is  not  now  used  for  a  public- 
house.  It  was  a  great  log-like  structure,  and  had  been  a  hunters'  or  pros- 
pecters'  lodge  in  the  year  before  the  railroad..  It  was  pleasantly  situated 
among  great  firs,  running  streams,  and  intervales  and  plateau  meadows. 

"  It  was  evening  when  I  first  reached  .Sulphur  Mountain.  The  stars  hung 
low  like  lamps  among  the  great  mountain  shadows.  The  place  seemed  walled 
with  mountains  that  touched  the  sky,  and  there  was  a  solemn  stillness  every- 
where. There  was  a  piny  odor  in  the  air;  everything  seemed  solitary  amid 
such  shadowy  outlines. 


'3 
Mil 


ilr 


^1 


ill 


BANFF. 


21 


"An  old  mountain  horse  took  me  to  the  lodge  where  a  party  of  adventurous 
travellers  were  stopping.  I  ate  my  supper  in  a  dark,  strange  dining-room  of 
bare  logs.  1  took  my  trunk,  or  rather  leather  portmanteau,  to  my  room 
myself  soon  after  supper.  I  was  tired  and  excited,  and  I  wished  to  be 
alone. 

"The  windows  of  my  room  looked  out  on  Cascade  Mountain.  There 
stood  the  great  pile  of  shadow,  with  a  light  silvery  twinkling  in  the  glaciers  on 
the  summit,  under  the  golden  light  of  the  stars.  I  sat  by  the  open  window 
for  an  hour  or  more.  I  seemed  to  feel  the  grandeur  of  the  surroundings 
which  I  could  not  distinctly  see.  I  went  to  bed  at  last,  my  pulses  throbbing, 
and  dreaming,  even  before  I  fell  asleep,  of  the  glorious  morning  to  come,  when 
for  the  first  time   I  should  clearly  see  a  sunrise  in  the  mountains. 

"  In  my  portmanteau  was  a  long,  bordered  night-gown,  a  present  from  my 
sister,  who  made  for  me  a  mountain  outfit  of  underwear,  and  added  the  priestly 
looking  night-robe.  It  was  not  a  garment  for  a  log-house  on  an  Indian  trail, 
and  I  was  so  weary,  nervous,  and  excited  that  I  did  not  unlock  my  trunk 
before  retiring.  I  was  alone ;  no  courtesy  was  due  to  any  one,  and  it  gave  me 
a  sense  of  relief  to  lie  down  in  a  cool  bed  in  my  simple  light  underclothing. 

"  I  was  suddenly  awakened,  late  in  the  night,  by  a  cry  as  of  agon\'  in  the 
adjoining  room,  '  Help !  help !  for  Heaven's  sake !  come  here,  landlord ! 
landlord  ! ' 

"  My  heart  bounded,  and  I  started  up  in  bed.  I  listened  with  stifled  breath. 
There  was  a  movement  in  some  of  the  rooms ;  people  were  awake,  and  evi- 
dently preparing  to  answer  the   call  should  it  be  repeated. 

"  I  glanced  out  of  the  window.  The  moon  had  risen  and  was  hanging 
over  the  plateau.  The  tall  glaciers  of  the  mountains  glistened  in  the  white 
light  like  a  ghost.  I  had  a  painful  impression  that  I  had  seen  the  same  moun- 
tain in  that  sheeny  robe  before.  It  seemed  to  me  like  a  ghost  of  a  mountain, 
and  it  somehow  siiggested  to  me  the  wearing  of  a  long  white  priestly  robe. 
The  mountain  looked  like  a  mantled  god. 

"  Presently  I  heard  a  nervous  step  on  the  stairs,  and  I  felt  sure  it  was  that 
of  the  landlord.  The  step  approached  the  door  of  the  adjoining  room,  and  a 
loud  rap  rang  through  the  hall. 

"  '  .Say,  Professor,  what  is  wanted  ? ' 

'"Heaven  knows!  Come  in  here.  There 's  been  a  ghost  here,  or  some- 
thing ;   I  don't  know  what.' 

"  '  Professor,  you  have  been  dreaming.     Nightmare !  ' 

"'  No,  I  have  not;  I  saw  it  as  plain  as  I  see  j'ou  now.  There's  been  an 
apparition  in  here,  or  something,  in  a  long  white  robe.' 


I 


i 


1.1  Jul; 
■     !S  - 


■li 


\;i 


i;  \ 


\^ 


K\ 


2l6 


pf< .' 


|>5 


ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS  IX  THE  GREAT  NORTHWEST. 


;  •    "' How  long  ago?' 

*  "' Half  an  hour,  it  may  be.  There  is  no  mistake  about  it.  I  saw  it;  looked 
like  a  priest  iii  a  tableau,  or  —  Oh,  it  was  awful,  sailing  about ;  and  its  eyes  were 
sot  [not  the  best  grammar  for  a  professor].'  ... 

"  '  Why  did  you  not  call  before?  ' 

"  '  I  could  n't  get  my  breath.  Here,  landlord,  you  just  wait.'  I  'm  going 
down  to  sleep  on  the  box  lounge  in  the  office  until  morning,  and  then  I  '\\  i^o. 
I  never  saw  a  ghost  before,  and  never  believed  that  there  was  one.  The  moon 
shone  in  at  the  window,  and  you  ought  to  have  seen  its  eyes.  I  tell  you  it  was 
awful.' 

"  I  heard  a  real  professor,  whoever  he  may  have  been,  moving  rapidly  about 
the  adjoining  room. 

"  '  Landlord  !  '  he  exclaimed  ;   '  say,  landlord,  I  cannot  find  my  watch.' 

"  '  What  kind  of  a  watch  was  it?  ' 

"  *  Small  gold  one;  belonged  to  my  wife.  Her  name  is  on  it,  "  Mary  Mott." 
I  would  n't  lose  that  for  anything.  My  purse  is  here,  but  my  watch  is  gone, 
sure.     What  next,  I  wonder.' 

"  '  Did  you  not  bar  the  door? ' 

"  '  No,  I  forgot  it.  I  never  passed  such  a  night  as  this  before,  and  would  n't 
spend  another  such  hour  for  all  the  mountains  in  the  universe.' 

"  I  heard  the  door  close,  and  the  two  men  passed  through  the  hall  and 
down  the  stairs. 

"  In  the  morning  I  looked  out  upon  the  beautiful  scene  of  Cascade  Moun- 
tain in  the  clear  steel-blue  air.  Near  it  rose  the  Devil's  Head,  skirted  with 
green  trees.  The  little  plateau  was  a  circle  of  mountains.  I  seemed  to  be  in 
a  fortress  of  giants,  outside  of  which  lay  the  world.  The  grand  trees  of  the 
glacial  meadows  glistened.  On  one  side  of  the  place  broken  ledges  arose  like 
the  walls  of  giant  castles,  on  the  other,  cool  green  hills.  At  the  head  rose  a 
clifif  like  a  steeple,  some  ten  thousand  feet  high.  Banff  is  a  great  cathedral  of 
Nature,  and  no  other  cathedral  uplifts  around  it  such  granite  towers. 

''  I  went  down  to  the  log  dining-room.  I  found  it  full  of  excited  people, 
adventurers,  prospecters,  and  several  ladies,  talking  over  the  events  of  the 
night. 

"'  I  will  tell  you  just  how  it  looked,'  s;iiti  the  Professor,  whose  name  I  in- 
cidentally found  to  be  '  Mott.'  '  It  had  on  a  long  white  robe,  with  a  \'ellow 
border,  and  a  yellow  pocket  on  one  side.  One  never  sees  anything  of  the 
kind  here.' 

'•  My  heart  leaped  again.  This  was  a  perfect  description  of  my  night-dress 
in  my  strapi)eil  portmanteau. 


i 


( 


m 


m  'I 
'■■'J  'I 


Ml; 


ii! 

1 1 

■■i  i 


HYDHAl'LIC   MININ(i    IN    THK    ROCKIES. 


■lAl 


(    i 


SLIt    , 


L""!'  U    t 


BANFF. 


219 


"  '  But  a  ghost,  Professor  Mott,  could  not  have  taken  away  yaur  watch,' 
said  an  incredulous  boarder.     '  Ghosts  are  done  with  time,  you  know.' 

"  '  I  should  hope  so,  if  they  have  eyes  like  that.  But  it  would  be  a  strange 
kind  of  a  thief  that  would  enter  my  room  in  a  long  robe  with  a  yellow  border, 
here  in  the  mountains.  No  mortal  man  on  earth  ever  had  a  night-dress  like 
that  one,  unless  he  was  crazy.' 

"  '  But,  Professor,  a  ghost  would  n't  have  q. pocket,  would  it?  ' 

"  '  I  don't  know  whether  ghosts  wear  pockets  or  not.  One  might  if  he  came 
after  a  watch.     The  watch  is  gone ;  that  is  certain.' 

"  '  But  you  do  not  think,  Professor,  that  the  watch  has  gone  out  of  this 
world  ? ' 

"  '  Heaven  only  knows.  I  hope  that  it  will  never  be  brought  back  by  the 
being  that  took  it  away,  as  much  as  I  think  of  it,  —  at  least,  when  I  am  in  the 
room.  The  gold  of  the  Indies  would  never  tempt  me  to  look  upon  those  eyes 
again.     //  walked  about  just  like  machinery.     I  tell  you  i*-  was  awful! 

"  The  professor  rose  from  his  chair  to  illustrate  hovv  '  awful '  the  visitor 
was. 

"  '  Then,'  said  he,  '  I  woke  up ;  the  moon  was  shining  on  Cascade  Moun- 
tain, and  there  it  stood  just  like  a  frozen  dead  man,  so.  Its  eyes  were  fixed  on 
the  mountain,  so.  At  last  it  lifted  its  hands  up  so,  like  a  priest,  its  great 
sleeves  waving  so.  Then  it  spoke  in  a  hollow  voice,  just  like  a  talking-machine. 
"  Silver  robes,  silver  robes,"  it  said,  just  like  tJiat.  "  Silvei  robes  for  the  moun- 
tain. Watch  it,  watch  it,  watch  it !  "  I  should  think  it  did  watch  it.  It  stood 
there,  I  have  no  idea  how  long,  —  it  seemed  to  me  a  life  time  ;  then  it  turned  just 
like  tJiat,  and  marched  out  of  the  room  with  a  noiseless  tread,  as  though  its 
feet  were  feathers.' 

"I  had  little  appetite  for  breakfast,  —  why,  I  could  not  tell;  a  nameless, 
mysterious  fear  crept  over  me. 

"I  went  to  my  room,  and  unstrapped  my  portmanteau.  On  the  top  lay 
my  night-dress,  —  a  long  white  robe  with  a  yellow  border  and  pocket.  I  had 
taken  it  merely  to  please  my  sister.  I  took  it  out  and  held  it  up.  There  was 
something  in  the  pocket.  I  put  my  hand  into  the  pocket,  and  drew  out  a  small 
gold  watch.  I  examined  the  case.  On  the  back  was  engraved  in  ornamental 
scrolls,  '  Mary  Mott.'  T  locked  the  door,  and  sank  on  the  bed  in  terror,  a 
cold  sweat  creeping  over  me. 

"What  had  I  been  doing  during  the  night,  and  what  was  I  to  do  now? 
My  conscience  told  me  that  it  would  be  the  manly  thing  to  go  directly  to  Pro- 
fessor Mott.  and  tell  him  what  I  had  found.  But  every  one  would  believe  me 
to  have  been  a  thief,  who  had  been  frightened  into  confession  by  the  events  of 


i'.'^ 


lii^l 


ICL 


,iii 


ii 


.tit 


&am- 


'  f 


"fi 


||. 


!i 


If?  i 

i 


i 


220 


ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS  IN  THE  GREAT  NORTHWEST. 


the  morning.  No  one  in  a  strange  public-house  kept  by  a  half-breed  landlord 
would  credit  the  story  I  would  have  to  tell. 

"  I  rose,  put  the  night-dress  in  ni)'  trunk,  and  covering  the  watch  with  my 
hand,  stepped  into  the  hall.  The  Professor's  door  was  open,  and  the  room 
empty.  ( Jn  a  wooden  peg  near  the  door  hung  a  vest.  I  entered  the  room, 
stuffed  the  watch  into  the  vest's  watch-pocket,  and  hurried  back  to  my  own 
room  and  barred  the  door,  and  lay  down  upon  the  bed  again,  sick  at  heart  and 
a  terror  to  myself. 

"  A  sense  of  relief  gradually  came  to  me,  and  I  fell  asleep.  When  I  awoke, 
the  Cascades  seemed  ever>-where  alive  with  waterfall  music,  the  room  was  full 
of  cool  thin  mountain  air,  and  the  crystal  tops  of  the  mountains  were  covered 
with  sunshine. 

"  My  mind  was  clear,  and  I  began  to  think  of  what  had  so  recently  passed. 
I  had  been  living  another  self,  of  which  1  had  no  memor}';  I  had  been  another 
self.  I  had  arisen  in  the  night,  unstrapped  xwy  portmanteau,  put  on  my  night- 
dress, gone  into  another  room,  returned  from  it  with  a  watch,  taken  oi'f  my 
nightdress,  put  it  into  my  travelling-bag,  barred  my  door,  and  it  may  have 
been,  gazed  from  the  windows  on  the  moon  rising  on  the  mountain;  and  yet  I 
knew  nothing  of  it  all  except  by  circumstantial  evidence. 

"  I  resolved  not  to  sleep  alone  again.  Could  I  find  a  room-mate  in  the 
hotel  ? 

"  The  Professor  did  not  leave,  as  he  had  intimated,  in  the  morning.  T  niade 
his  acquaintance,  and  wc  went  together  to  visit  the  Sulphur  Pool,  Devil's  Head 
Lake,  and  the  falls  of  Bow^  River. 

"  '  Professor,'  said  I,  on  our  return  at  noon, '  I  was  greatly  alarmed  last  night. 
I  wish  I  had  some  one  to  sleep  in  the  same  room  with  me.' 

"  '  So  do  I,'  said  the  professor.     '  If  I  had,  I  would  stay.' 

"  '  I  do  not  like  to  stay,  myself,  under  the  circumstances,'  said  I. 

"  '  Could  we  not  take  a  room  together?  ' 

"  '  1  would  be  glad  to  do  so,'  said  I. 

"  The  Professor  went  to  his  room,  and  presently  came  down  to  dinner 
wearing  the  identical  vest  into  whose  pocket  I  had  put  the  watch.  He 
took  a  scat  beside  me  at  the  table.  I  saw  the  ouUine  of  the  watch  in  the 
pocket. 

"  After  the  meal  was  over,  I  asked,  '  What  time  is  it,  Professor?  ' 

"  He  put  his  hand  on  his  watch-pocket,  unconscious  of  his  supposed  loss, 
and  a  strange,  wild,  dazed  look  came  into  his  face. 

"'My  watch  is  here  —  hcre^  he  said.  'Now  I  understand  it  all.  I  did 
have  the  nightmare.' 


:ht. 


loss, 


1 

I 


0\ 


nii 


HANl'F 


223 


"The  Professor  and  I  took  a  room  to^fothcr.  and  I  immediately  wrote  to 
my  father  and  told  him  all  these  strange  occurrences,  and  sent  the  letter 
to  Calj^ary  for  mailing.  He  consulted  a  physician,  and  returned  answer  by  the 
mounted  police.  The  physician  said  that  such  thini;s  often  happencli  in  youth, 
when  the  nerves  were  weakened  and  the  mind  was  suddenly  placed  in  a  state 
of  excitement;  that  its  cure  was  habits  of  self-control;  that  its  danger  would 
pass  away  with  returning  health  ;  and  that  it  would  not  be  likely  to  recur  iti 
after  life.  There  has  never  been  any  recurrence,  so  far  as  I  know,  of  this 
dual  life. 

"  The  Professor  passed  the  month  of  August  at  ]>anfif,  and  became  quite 
intimate  with  me. 

"  The  September  days  came.  How  beautiful  they  were  in  the  mountains  I 
1  had  used  the  waters  of  the  springs  freely.  My  health  had  returned.  I  had 
gained  ten  pounds  in  weight  in  some  six  weeks ;  my  spirits  rose  with  my 
health,  and  so   I   came  to   love  the  mountains  and  the  mountain  air. 

"The  day  was  fixed  for  me  to  return  to  Winnipeg,  and  one  evening  I 
opened  my  travelling-bag  and  began  to  repack  it.  I  took  out  the  bordered 
night-dress,  which  I  had  not  worn,  and  threw  it  over  a  chair.  Presentl)'  I  held 
it  up.     While  doing  so  I  heard  a  step,  and  the  Professor  opened  the  door. 

"  *  Mold  !  '  he  exclaimed  ;   '  there  it  is  again  ! ' 

"  '  What?'  asked  I 

"  'What?      The  very  robe  I  saw  in  my  nightmare.' 

"'Oh,  Professor,  I  was  almost  crazed  that  night.  I  was  weak  —  was  all 
alone  in  a  strange  room  —  and  —  and  —  ' 

'"What,  boy?' 

"  '  My  other  self  walked  about  in  my  sleep.' 

"  The  Professor  sat  down. 

"  '  I  can  believe  it  all  now,'  he  said,  'but  I  could  not  have  believed  it  then. 
But  there  is  a  mystery  about  the  watch.  1  felt  in  that  very  pocket  that  night, 
and  it  was  not  there.' 

"  My  father  had  written  to  me  to  tell  Professor  Mott  the  true  story.  I  now 
did  so,  and  showed  him  my  father's  letters,  and  read  to  hiia  what  the  physician 
had  said.     'You  will  \\o\.  arrest  me.  Professor?'   I  asked. 

"  '  Arrest  what,  —  your  other  self  ?  No  ;  but  it  seems  that  both  your  selves 
used  the  same  bod>-,  and  only  one  that  awful  garment.  When  you  get  back 
to  Winnipeg,  put  that  habiliment  away  with  your  other  self  I  hope  you 
will   never  have  any   use  for   either  again.' 

"  I  never  have  had.  When  the  nerves  are  strong  and  the  conscience  clear,  a 
person  generally  has  but  one  self,  and  it  is  my  purpose  to  live  so  as  to  secure 


%: 


%  " 


TO! 

if  ' 
.       i 

?!    |! 


224 


ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS  IN  THE  GREAT  NORTHWEST. 


these  blessings.  I  have  been  able  to  strengthen  myself  by  always  doing  what 
I  believed  to  be  true  and  honest.  A  strong  will  has  given  tone  to  my  nerves, 
and  my  nerves  to  my  body.  A  visit  to  my  physician  brought  me  this  good 
advice;  which  I  have  tried  to  follow. 

"  '  A  person  with  a  vivid  imagination,'  said  tlie  doctor,  '  needs  to  cultivate 
a  strong  moral  will  and  habits  of  self-control.  The  self-controlled  man  seldom 
walks  in  his  sleep.  His  daily  habit  governs  the  night.  It  is  so  with  many 
nervous  diseases.  If  young  people  would  learn  to  govern  themselves  when 
young,  and  to  give  up  their  own  wills  to  the  highest  interests  of  the  moral  life, 
many  forms  of  nervous  diseases  would  be  avoided.  Habit  becomes  the  govern- 
ing power  of  life.  Follow  your  better  will  and  self,  my  boy,  and  }-ou  probably 
will  never  be  troubled  by  the  ghost  of  that  other  self  again.'  " 


THE    BRITISH    CORPORAL'S   STORY   OF 


A   SONG    IN   TENNESSEE. 


% 


"I  was  travelling  through  America,"  said  Corporal  True,  "to  visit  the 
battlefields  of  the  War  for  the  Union.  I  was  on  my  way  to  Atlanta,  Georgia, 
with  a  view  to  following,  as  nearly  as  possible,  the  old  historical  route  of 
Sherman's  army  in  its  famous  march  to  the  sea. 

"'  Shall  I  see  Lookout  Mountain  as  I  pa.'^s  through  Chattanooga?'  1  asked 
the  conductor  of  a  train  from  Washington  to  Jacksonville,  Florida.  '  Is  it  near 
the  city?' 

"'See  it?'  said  the  well-informed  conductor,  smiling.  'Pardon  me,  but 
if  you  have  eyes  you  will  not  fail  to  see  it.  We  pass  under  it.  Lookout 
Mountain  hangs  over  Chattanooga.  Why  do  you  not  stop  over  a  day  or  two, 
and  visit  the  battlefields,  and  see  tlic  celebration  ?  ' 

"  It  is  not  literally  true  that  Lookout  Mountain  hangs  over  Chattanooga, 
though  it  seems  to  do  so  from  a  little  distance;  but  it  is  quite  true  that  the 
main  line  of  its  railways  passes  under  the  mountain  and  through  its  rocky 
base. 

"  It  was  the  evening  of  the  3d  of  July.  The  sunset  was  blazing  amid  the 
pines  of  the  Carolinas,  and  a  soft  light  was  gathering  over  the  wood  wiers  and 
cottonficlds.  Late  in  the  evening  we  would  be  in  Chattanooga,  near  the  battle- 
field of  Chickamauga,  the  cemeteries  where  slumber  two  armies  of  dead  soldier.s- 
side  by  side,  and  the  scene  of  some  of  the  most  thrilling  and  poetic  events  of 
the  war.     The  night  was  dark  and  still,  full  of  cabin  lights  and   firellics.     Blaz- 


BANFF. 


225 


! 


ing   furnaces   at   length   broke  open    the  cloud  of  darkness,   and  the    kindly 
conductor  said,  — 

"  '  Yonder  is  Lookout  Mountain.' 

"  I  gazed  from  the  car  window,  and  although  I  could  see  no  mountain,  I 
saw  a  long  row  of  lights  twinkling  in  the  sky,  as  though  there  were  a  habitable 
region  in  the  air. 

"  '  Hotels,'  said  he. 

"  '  Is  that  the  place  of  the  Battle  in  the  Sky? '  I  asked. 

"  '  Pardon  me,  sir,  but  there  never  was  any  battle  on  Lookout  Mountain,' 
he  said,  '  except  in  poetry.  I  am  merely  quoting  General  Grant's  own  words. 
The  facts  were  these:  In  November, 
1863,  the  Federal  army  occupied  the 
city  of  Chattanooga,  and  the  Con- 
federate army  the  plateau  on  the 
mountain.  On  the  24th  a  cloud  set- 
tled down  upon  the  mountain,  and 
a  Federal'  force  advanced  under  the 
cover  of  the  cloud  up  the  mountain- 
side, and  the  Confederates  retreated 
before  it.  There  was  a  great  rattle  of 
musketry,  and  it  was  telegraphed  to 
Washington  and  the  North  that  a 
battle  WmS  raging  above  the  clouds. 
Tho  fog-cloud  was  followed  at  night 
by  an  eclipse  of  the  moon;  the  next 
morninp,  the  Union  flag  was  seen 
flying  in  the  early  light  from  the 
highest  point  of  the  mountain.  The 
Confederates  had  macuated  the  moun- 
tain plateau,  thougli  few  soldiers  of 
either  side  had  been  killed  or  wounded. 

There  was  great  joy  in  Chattanooga  over  the  capture  of  Lookout  Mountain, 
and  the  skirmishes  ii.  the  fog-cloud  and  darkness  became  magnified  into  a 
great  battle,  and  though  history  disproves  it,  poetry  will  ever  have  it  so. 
Sentiment  would  make  it  so,  but  it  was  not.  You  could  not  understand  the 
situation  unless  you  were  to  see  the  city  and  mountain  under  a  fog-cloud. 
Terhaps  you  will.' 

"  The  train  stopped. 

"  '  Carriage  for  the  mountain,'  said  a  negro  driver. 


CANOEINC.   IN   THE   NOUTHWEST. 


iji 


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226 


ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS  IN  THE   GREAT  NORTHWEST. 


"  I  was  whirled  through  the  darkness,  over  tortuous  ways,  for  an  hour,  up 
toward  the  Hghts  and  the  stars  in  the  sky,  so  it  seemed,  and  found  rest  at  last 
in  a  good  hotel,  and  wondered  what  the  morning  would  reveal  to  me.  I  t)nly 
knew  that  near  me  was  Missionary  Ridge,  and  somewhere  below  me  in  the 
glimmering  darkness  was  Chattanooga,  the  Tennessee  River,  the  battlefield  of 
Chickamauga,  the  great  national  cemetery,  and  the  monumented  field  of  the 
Confederate  dead. 

"  The  niglit  was  still.  I'he  hotel  stood  near  to  the  edge  of  a  rocky  T"'e(  •- 
pice  which  1  was  told  descended  almost  perpendicularly  to  the  cii>  'ik, 
overlooked  the  valley  of  the  Tennessee.  I  lay  awake  long,  thinking  of  the  p;.st. 
It  was  here  came  the  missionaries  of  the  American  Board  to  the  Cherokees, 
and  gave  the  name  to  the  long,  g.ecn,  smoky  mountain-wall,  —  Missionary 
Ridge.  Here  was  the  home  of  the  Indian  patriot,  John  Ross;  here  in  these 
fastnesses  of  curving  hills  lived  the  Union  men  of  Tennessee ;  here  was  the 
scene  of  the  great  war  contests  that  once  thrilled  the  nation  as  it  stood  listen- 
ing to  the  click  of  the  telegraph ;  here  was  Rosecrans's  headquarters ;  here 
Thomas  swept  over  the  doubtful  field ;  here  was  the  place  of  the  high-spirited 
achievements  of  Longstreet,  Polk,  and  Bragg.  I  had  never  seen  the  place,  but 
this  view  of  it  common   newspaper  history  had   made  familiar  to  me. 

"  While  I  was  thinking  upon  these  things  I  heard  a  distant  tinkle  of  music, 
and  a  harmony  of  sympathetic  voices  broke  on  the  still  air:  — 

'  Rise,  shine,  and  give  God  the  glory,  glory, 
■  For  the  year  of  jubilee  ; 

Oh,  don't  you  lie.ir  dem  bells  a-ringing.  ringing, 
For  the  year  of  jubilee  ! 
Rise,  shine,'  etc 

"  The  song  came  from  some  old  negro  servants  in  a  dooryard,  out-house, 
or  cabin.  It  was  native  music,  and  it  haunted  me  for  days.  I  was  awakened 
in  the  early  morning  by  a  cannon  —  a  fen  dc  joic  —  in  the  valley  below. 
I  was  soon  dressed,  and  threw  open  the  window  and  stepped  out  on  the 
cool  balcony  in  the  morning  air.  The  scene  was  grand  beyond  description. 
Flags  floating  in  the  breeze  filled  it  with  patriotic  sentiment.  Over  the  moun- 
tain range,  cool,  shadowy,  and  dewy,  was  rising  the  unclouded  sun.  The  smoky 
light  made  the  great  luminary  fiery  red.  The  air  was  r  cshinp;.  There  was 
every  promise  of  a  clear  d,7\j'. 

"  Below  lay  the  valley  of  the  Tennessee,  and  the  winc'nig  ri\'\  v  th  its  old 
plantations  and  grain-encumbered  farms.  Under  the  mountain,  >r  nestling 
close  to  its  rocky  side,  lay  Chattanooga,  merely  Ross's  T.aiuling  fifty  years  ago, 
but  a  rich  cit)'  to-da)-,  full  of  growth,  spirit,  and  enterprise,  and  destined  to 


BAXFF. 


become  at  no  late  date  one  of  the  most  beautiful  and  influential  cities  of  the 
re-crowned  South. 

"  There  were  flags  everywhere.  Patriotism  had  meant  sometliing  here ; 
and  the  fine  buildings  among  the  glimmering  spires  blossomed  like  hanging- 
gardens  with  the  national  emblems.  The  soldiers'  cemeteries  —  those  great 
cities  of  the  dead  —  lay  full  in  view,  and  in  answer  to  our  inquiry  a  negro 
servant   pointed   into   the   kindling  air.   and   said,   '  Chickamauga !  ' 

"'  Chickamauga!  '  Yes,  but  the  land  was  peace,  and  how  l()\cl\-  was  the 
scene!  The  fires  had  been  lowered  in  the  furnaces  of  the  great  iron-works. 
The  r(jads  were  full  of  odd  vehicles,  and  people  in  holiday  attire.  There  came 
a  peal  of  bells.  Was  it  possible  that  here,  twenty-five  years  ago,  human  blood 
soaked  the  earth  like  water,  and  that  around  me  in  the  many  cemeteries  of 
Tennessee  were  fifty  thousand  soldiers'  graves? 

"  I  spent  the  day  in  visiting  Rock  City,  Lulu  Lake,  and  the  place  of  the 
once  great  army  hospital  erected  by  General  Thomas,  and  afterward  turned 
into  a  school. 

"  The  mountain  plateau  was  full  of  fantastic  rock  scenery,  and  recalled 
the  Garden  of  the  Gods,  of  Colorado.  The  air  was  cool,  even  under  the  bright, 
fierce  sunlight.  The  groves  of  oak,  pine,  and  laurel  teemed  with  summer  life 
and  beauty.  The  great  hotels  were  filled  with  guests  early  in  the  da\-,  and  in 
many  places  on  the  mountain  the  flag  of  thirty-eight  stars  rose  above  the  trees 
in  the  calm  of  the  sun-bright  air. 

"  I  chanced  to  make  the  acquaintance  of  a  State  senator  of  Tennessee, 
who  had  come  to  one  of  the  great  mountain  hotels  to  pass  the  day  in  cool 
and  quiet.  Near  sunset  we  went  to  a  bluff  overlooking  the  Chattanooga 
valley,  which  lay  like  a  great  garden  below  us,  watered  by  the  serpentine 
flow  of  the  Tennessee,  the  air  blooming  in  the  long  distance  with  flags. 

"  '  I  shall  never  forget,'  said  the  senator  to  me,  '  the  thrilling  scene  that 
occurred  in  Chattanooga  in  September,  1881.  It  had  been  agreed  to  hold 
during  Chattanooga  week  of  that  year  a  reunion  of  both  the  army  of  the 
Cumberland  and  the  Confederate  army. 

"  '  So  great  is  the  si)irit  of  good-will  and  peace  in  Tennessee  among  all 
classes  of  people,  that  a  plan  had  been  arranged  by  which  on  the  principal 
day  of  the  celebration  the  American  flag  should  be  raised  over  Cameron  Mill, 
the  place  of  the  principal  cemeteries,  by  both  Federal  and  Confederate  officers 
at  the  same  time,  each  of  the  respective  corps  pulling  the  cords  together.  As 
the  flag  of  thirty-eight  stars  should  ascend,  the  artiller\-  was  to  peal  forth, 
and  the  bands  were  to  play  both  Union  and  Confederate  airs,  and  so  inaugurate 
an  era  of  eternal  peace  and  good-will. 


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228 


ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS  IN  THE  GREAT  NORTHWEST. 


"  '  Chattanooga  was  all  preparation  for  the  grand  event.  Patriotic  senti- 
ment was  awakened  as  I  have  seldom  seen  it  anywhere  but  here.  The  city 
was  gay  with  bunting.  Excursions  had  been  arranged  over  all  the  great  high- 
ways of  travel.  It  was  to  be  a  festival  like  that  which  is  so  common  at  patriotic 
periods  in  Germany  and   TicMice. 

"'At  midnight  on  the  >.'  •  )efore  the  inauguration  of  this  grand  Peace 
Festival  the  bells  began  to  toil.  eople  rushed  into  the  streets.  Clang,  clang, 
clang !  on  the  still,  starry,  midnight  air.  Clang,  clang,  clang !  What  did  it 
mean?  The  telegraph  had  sent  into  the  sleeping  city  a  lightning  flash, — 
that  intelligence  which  made  the  world  sad,  —  Garfield  is  dead! 

"'Should  the  festival  go  on?  Yes,  but  under  another  programme.  The 
city  filled  with  a  wondering,  awe-struck  crowd.  The  flag-raising  was  a^Dpointcd 
to  take  place  as  planned. 

"  '  I  never  saw  men's  hearts  Zj  moved  as  they  were  that  day  as  they  stood 
on  Cameron  Hill,  waiting  for  the  lifting  of  that  flag.  Out  of  the  city  swept 
a  long  procession  of  Federal  and  ex-Confederate  officers,  with  reversed  arms 
and  banners  draped,  the  bands  playing  the  dirges  of  the  heroic  dead.  Near 
the  flag-staff  stood  a  beautiful  catafalque,  a  coffin  of  flowers,  with  floral  crosses 
and  crowns,  the  work  of  the  ladies  of  Chattanooga. 

"  '  The  marshals  of  the  two  armies  met  at  the   foot  of  the  flag-staff*  and 
saluted;   two  officers  grasped  the  halyards,  and  amid  an  awful  silence  the  fl.ig 
began   to   rise.     Red,  white,  and  blue?     Yes,  and    black.     The  cainion  tlum 
dered,  the  bands  played  the  "  Star-spangled  Banner  "  and  '•  Ijixio." 

"  '  Up,  up  into  the  cloudless  sky  of  that  September  day  ascended  the 
flag  with  its  stripe  of  black.  Men  clasped  each  other's  hands;  women  wept; 
every  heart  thrilled  with  emotion.     I  never  beheld  such  a  scene. 

"  '  Then  the  bands  broke  into  a  dirge.  1  he  flag  beg.m  to  descend  slowly, 
waved  to  and  fro  in  the  dazzling  sunlight  by  the  mountain  air,  and  rested  at 
half-mast.  Orations  followed ;  and  seldom  has  an  orator  had  an  easier  duty 
than  under  the  inspiration  of  tl'osc  thrilling  events.  T  have  often  thought 
that  the  sentiment  of  that  day  is  the  one  the  whole  country  should  shure: 
"With  malice  toward  none,  with  charity  for  all;"  and  "that  governuient 
of  the  people,  by  the  people,  for  the  people,  shall  not  perish  from  the 
earth." ' 

"I  rose  next  morning  and  looked  out  to  see  the  city.  It  was  gone.  The 
sun  was  rising  red  over  Missionar>'  Ridge,  but  an  ocean,  or  lake,  or  great 
lagoon  appeared  to  lie  beneath  me.  The  waves  of  the  strange  sea  seemed 
rolling  on  the  orange  light  among  islands  and  archipelagoes.  Did  the  city  still 
lie  beneath  it? 


A    HOMK    IN   Tin:    NdKTinVF.ST. 


V' 


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BANFF. 


231 


"  Out  of  the  mysterious  regions  of  the  fog  below  came  a  voice,  joyous  aiul 

melodious, — 

'  Rise,  shine,  and  give  God  the  glory,  glory, 
For  the  year  of  jubilee.' 

"  Slowly  the  great  fog  sea  began  to  rise  and  dissipate,  and  the  outline  of  the 
spired  city  to  appear.  Then  I  understood  th)  poets'  Battle  in  the  Clouds, 
which  I  had  not  comprehended  before.  If  the  poets  are  historically  wrong, 
they  are  in  spirit  right,  when  they  mingle  the  cloud  with  the  mountain  in  the 
great  events  of  November  24,  1863.  It  was  more  than  a  battle;  it  was  the 
change  of  front  of  America. 

"  As  I  left  the  mountain,  I  stopped  to  look  up  to  the  floating  mists  in  the 
sunlight.     Birds  were  singing.     Suddenly  came  that  joyous  song  again, — 

'  Rise,  shine,  and  give  God  the  glory,  glory.'  " 


m 
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THE   OLD   YANKEE   EMIGRANT'S   STORY. 


THE    FOREST    BLACKSMITH. 

When  I  first  heard  old  Ephraim,  the  pcdler  of  watches,  say,  "  Boys,  I  can  tcl! 
you  a  story  a  great  deal  stranger  than  that,  and  you  won't  know  any  more  when 
I  've  got  through  than  when  I  began,"  my  curiosity  was  greatly  excited.  By 
"  that "  he  referred  to  the  old  story  of  Goffe  the  regicide,  and  the  appearance 
of  the  so-called  Angel  of  Deliverance  at  the  attack  on  Hadlcy,  Mass.,  during 
tlic  Indian  War.  That  was  old  Ephraim's  favorite  stoi^.  It  embraced  the 
incidents  of  the  Judge's  cave,  the  stone  cellar  at  Guilford,  the  secret  chamber 
at  Madley,  and  the  a|jpearance  and  vanishing  of  the  white  stranger  during  the 
old  battle ;   no  story  heretofore  had  ever  held  me  like  that. 

The  itinerant  story-tellers,  sueh  as  lived  in  old  colony  times,  are  gone,  like 
the  minstrels  of  the  days  of  the  old  I"'nglish  barons.  A  quaint  class  of  people 
they  were,  these  old  New  iMiglaiul  story-tellers,  —  the  pack-pedlers,  the  tin- 
pcdlers,  the  tinkers,  the  wandering  revival  preachers,  the  luiskers,  and  the 
fortune-tellers.  The  bread-'cart  man  must  be;  numbered  among  them  ;  he  carried 
the  gossip  of  the  town  from  house  to  house  on  Saturdays,  usually  with  an  old 
horse  and  r(;d  cart,  and  a  jingle,  jingle,  jingle  of  bells.  The  old  lady  who 
earned  her  living  by  going  \isiting,  and  the  travelling  dressmaker,  whose 
tongue  was  as  pointed  as  her  needles,  belonged  to  the  same  class. 

They  are  all  gone;  but  I  think  that  no  better  st(M-ies  were  ever  told  than 
those   bv   the   old-time    entertainers  as   thev   sat  before  the   great   logs  of  the 


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232 


ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS  IN  THE   GREAT  NORTHWEST. 


grand  colonial  fireplaces.  They  were  often  colored,  it  is  true,  by  superstition, 
for  the  travelling  tradesmen  were  a  superstitious  race,  who  feared  the  unseen 
more  than  the  seen  ;  but  even  the  marvels  of  ghost-lore  had  a  spiritual  meaning, 
and  illustrated  goodness  and  peace,  and  the  terror  of  evil,  and  there  was  the 
substance  and  philosophy  of  truth  underlying  them  all. 

It  was  the  habit  of  most  of  these  wandering  story-tellers  to  remain  over 
night  at  the  farm-houses  on  their  way.  This  habit  enabled  them  not  only  to 
relate  stories,  but  to  collect  them,  and  their  best  stories  grew  by  repetition. 

My  youth  was  spent  in  an  old  colonial  house  at  Warren,  R.  I.,  near  Swan- 
sea, Mass.,  in  view  of  Mount  Hope,  and  amid  the  scenes  of  the  early  tragedies 
of  the  Indian  War.  The  Baptist  and  Quaker  founders  of  Rhode  Island  came 
to  these  plantations,  and  the  exiles  from  Boston  during  the  period  of  persecu- 
tion and  the  witchcraft  delusion.  I  have  been  a  reader  of  stories  for  many 
years,  but  I  still  retain  a  vivid  memory  of  the  strong  and  subtle  fascination  of 
the  old  colonial  fireside  tale. 

There  was  an  old  pedler  b}'  the  name  of  Ephraim  Pool,  whose  wonder- 
stories  I  distinctly  recall.  He  lived  in  Guilford,  Conn.,  and  was  accustomed  to 
wander  through  the  Connecticut  River  Valley  in  summer,  and  through  Provi- 
dence, and  thence  by  Bristol  Ferry  to  Newport,  in  winter.  He  was  consequently 
at  Hadley,  Mass.,  during  one  part  of  the  }'ear,  and  at  the  old  towns  of  the 
Mount  Hope  lands  in  winter,  — two  dramatic  points  in  the  old  tragedies  of  the 
Indian  W^ar. 

He  aold  watches  and  snuff-boxes,  and  cleaned  and  repaired  clocks.  He 
used  to  be  called  the  Clock  Doctor,  He  was  an  habitual  snuff-taker,  and  used 
to  pass  the  snuff-box  often  during  the  telling  of  a  storj^ 

I  can  see  h.im  now.  "  Here  I  am  !  "  he  used  to  say.  "  Come  to  set  your 
clock  all  right  again.  The  time  will  come  when  you  won't  see  old  P^phraim 
any  more.  Time  will  go  on  just  the  same  after -old  Ephraim  Pool  has  ceased 
to  travel;  yes,  time  will  go  on,  but  I  don't  believe  clocks  will  ever  go  on  half 
so  well  again.     Have  a  pinch  of  snuff  ?  " 

To  new  listeners,  the  unexpected  end  of  these  customary  introductory  and 
very  solemn  words  seemed  very  odd  and  comical.  The  snuff-box  was  old 
Ephraim's  inseparable  companion,  and  he  punctuated  with  it  all  that  he  had 
to  say.  We  used  to  light  two  candles  instead  of  one  wlicn  old  I^phraim  came, 
set  a  row  of  apples  to  roast  before  the  fire  on  the  great  brick  lu'arth,  sit 
down  on  the  red  settle,  and  ask  the  genial  and  much-travell-xl  snuff-taker  for 
stories.  The  story  that  had  the  greatest  interest  for  us  was  the  attack  of  the 
Indians  on  Hadley,  Mass.,  in  the  valley  of  the  Connecticut,  di.  !^g  King  Philip's 
War,  and  the  sudden  appearance   and   disappearance  of  a  so-called  Angel   of 


BANFF. 


233 


Deliverance.  The  story  in  its  historical  relations  is  well  known.  It  fascinated 
Sir  Walter  Scott,  who  tells  it  vividly  in  "  Peveril  of  the  Peak."  It  charmed 
Southey  also,  for  it  is  highly  poetic  and  spiritual  in  its  siiggestionSj  and  the 
busy  singer  of  Grasmere  and  VVinderinere  had  planned  a  long  poem  upon  it, 
when  his  mind  failed.  It  is  at  once  one  of  the  most  thrilling  and  remarkable 
tales  of  American  folk-lore.  I  well  recall  how  old  Ephraim  used  to  tell  it,, — 
before  the  great  fire,  with  his  handkerchief  spread  over  his  knee. 

"  I  am  not  so  young  as  I  was,"  he  would  begin ;  "  my  beard  grows  a  little 
whiter,  just  a  little,  every  year,  and  I  set  the  clocks  a  little  nearer  the  time,  — 
the  ti.ne  for  all  of  us.  (Have  a  pinch  of  snuff?)  Yes  ;  well,  as  I  was  saying,  I 
sha'  n't  be  about  here  many  more  winters,  so  I  shall  have  to  please  you  this 
time,  and  I  like  to  tell  that  old  story  right  here,  where  the  Indian  War 
began.  But,  boys,  I  can  tell  you  a  story  a  great  deal  stranger  than  that,  and 
you  won't  know  any  more  when  I  've  got  through  than  when  I  began.  But 
first  let  me  tell  you  the  story  of  old  Hadley. 

'  Hadley,  at  the  time  of  my  story,  was  a  little  village  in  the  woods.  It  was 
a  Sabbath  day  in  early  fall  when  it  all  happened,  and  the  people  had  gathered 
in  the  church.  Old  Xchemiah  Solsgrace  had  just  begun  to  pray,  when  a  woman 
rushed  into  the  church,  with  wild  eyes  and  hair  streaming,  without  bonnet  or 
shawl,  and  slirieked,  'The  Indians!  the  Indians!'  just  like  tlidt.  (Have  a 
pinch  of  snuff?)  The  prayer  stopped,  and  ah  started  up.  In  the  silence  there 
was  heard  a  cry  in  the  distance  that  v/ould  have  pierced  your  soul.  It  was  the 
war-whoop. 

"  The  men  seized  their  guns,  for  men  went  armed  everywhere  that  doleful 
year,  even  to  church.  They  rushed  out-doors,  and  hearil  another  wild  cry, 
nearer  now,  and  more  fierce  and  defiant.     What  should  they  do? 

"  In  the  midst  of  the  confusion  appeared  a  wonder  such  as  had  never  been 
known  in  New  England  before.  There  came  stalking  into  the  streets  —  from 
what  place  no  one  knew,  but  many  believe  from  another  world  —  a  tall  man 
like  one  of  the  old  patriarchs.  No  one  among  the  defenders,  so  far  as  known, 
had  ever  seen  him  before.  His  garments  were  of  skins;  he  carried  a  sword 
which  lie  flourished  aloft  (just  like  this) ;  his  hair  was  long  and  gray,  his  beard 
white  and  flowing,  and  he  had  the  air  of  a  leader  of  armies. 

"  He  shouted,  and  his  voice  seemed  to  fill  the  village,  —  '  Behold  in  me  the 
Captain  of  Israel.  Eollow  me.'  The  people  were  awe-struck,  but  the  men 
followed  him.  Out  of  the  town  went  the  white  stranger,  making  a  semicircle 
around  the  Ijulian  warriors,  unseen  l)\-  them,  and  soon  appeared  behind  the 
enemy,  to  their  surprise  and  terror.  The  Indians,  thinking  they  had  a  foe  both 
before  and  behind  them,  fled  in  confusion. 


m 


..!!  : 


■'[:! 


iiii 


I  [v 


ikli:'- 


i  'i 


234 


ZIGZAG  JOURAEYS  IN   HIE   GREAT  NORTHWEST. 


"  The  wliiLc  stranger  returned  to  the  vilkii^e,  followed  b)'  the  men.  '  Hring 
nie  a  cup  of  water,'  he  said,  '  and  let  us  offer  thanks  for  this  great  victory  to 
(iod,  who  sent  me  to  be  the  Angel  of  Deliverance.' 

"AH  knelt  down.  He  pra}'ed  in  trumpet  tones;  it  was  a  thanksgiving  of 
such  thrilling  and  lofty  language  as  the  people  never  had  heard  before.  It 
ended  with,  '  Be  still.'  There  was  a  deep  silence,  and  when,  one  by  one,  they 
looked  up,  the  white  stranger  was  gone.     (Have  a  pinch  of  snuff?)  " 

We  usually  spent  an  hour  or  more  in  asking  questions  to  clear  up  this 
remarkable  recital.  Uncle  ICphraim  then  would  slowly  tell  us  that  the  white 
stranger  for  many  years  was  believed  to  be  an  Angel  of  Deliverance  sent  from 
another  world ;  but  he  really  was  Major-General  Goffe,  one  of  the  judges  who 
had  condemned  to  death  Charles  I.,  and  who  sought  refuge  in  America,  and 
was  hidden  in  different  places,  once  in  a  cave  on  the  top  of  a  hil!  near  New 
Haven,  once  in  a  stone  cellar  at  Guilford,  and  finally,  for  many  years,  in  a 
secret  chamber  in  HadJey,  Mass.,  where  he  was  when  the  Indians  fell  upon  the 
place. 

"  But  the  other  story?  "  we  asked  eagerly. 

"  It  was  something  like  this,  only  a  great  deal  more  strange,"  he  said. 
"There  were  all  kinds  of  strange  things  that  happened  and  were  expected  to 
happen  in  old  colony  times,  when  people  were  fleeing  from  kings  and  par- 
liaments and  persecutions  ;  but  this  took  place  not  more  than  thirty  years  ago. 
I  never  tell  the  story  of  Goffe  without  thinking  of  the  other,  for  there  is  a  like- 
ness between  the  two,  as  you  shall  see. 

"  I  was  a  young  man  when  it  happened,  but  the  scenes  are  all  as  vivid  as 
daylight  in  my  mind  still.  The  old  Mount  IIol)'oke  Female  Seminary  was  a 
power  then,  under  ]\Iary  Lyon,  of  blessed  memory.  I  used  to  stop  at  several 
farm-houses  in  Holyoke.  In  one  of  my  jounicj'ings  I  was  surprised  to  find 
not  far  from  the  village,  in  the  woods,  a  new  blacksmith-shop  and  a  small 
cottage. 

"  '  Who  lives  there?  '   I  asked  of  a  farmer  by  the  way. 

"  '  A  stranger,'  said  he.     '  They  call  him  the  h'orest  Blacksmith.' 

"  Seeing  my  curiosity,  he  continued,  '  Name  is  Ainsley.  Came  here  kind 
o'  mysterious  like.  People  don't  know  niueh  about  him.  He  is  n't  very 
handy.'  The  last  remark  was  meant  t(j  insply  a  lack  of  experience  or  skill  in 
his  work. 

"  The  shop  was  merely  a  covered  frame  and  fi)rge.  The  cottage  was  small, 
and  seemed  to  consist  of  two  rooms,  hi  the  tloorway  stood  a  woman  with 
white  hair,  and  a  handkerchief  crossed  on  her  breast.  Her  face  fi.xed  itself  on 
my  mind  like  a  picture;   I  can  see  it  now.      It  was  a  quiet  face,  full   of  trouble. 


lis 


ir- 


ral 


in 


w 
-M 


BANFF. 


237 


You   may  not  understand  that,  but   it  was  so.     It  was  a  beautiful   facu,  tli;it 
seemed  to  hide  a  weary,  sad  heart. 

"The  next  summer,  as  I  was  coming  up  the  valle)-,  ami  travcJliiiLj  alon^f 
the  old  Holyoke  road,  a  storm  overtook  me  one  afternoon  near  the  I'orcst 
Blacksmith's.  The  clouds  darkened  and  settled  down  upon  the  mountains, 
and  a  heavy  rain,  mingled  with  hail,  began  to  fall.  I  hurried  along  to  tlie 
blacksmith's  shop,  found  the  man  there,  and  sat  down  by  the  fireless  forge. 

"  '  You  will  allow  me  to  rest  until  the  storm  is  over?'  said  I  to  the  man, 
\\\\o  was  not  at  work. 

"  '  Certainly,  friend,  certainly.  You  are  quite  welcome  ;  make  yourself  at 
home.     It  will  all  be  over  in  an  li    iir.     Go  into  the  house,  if  \-ou  like.' 

"'The  gentlemanly  mildness  of  his  tone  and  politeness  of  manner  sur- 
prised me,  It  seemed  strange  amid  such  rude  and  simple  belongings.  I 
accepted  his  invitation,  hoping  to  sell  something  to  the  woman,  and  went  into 
the  house. 

"  The  woman  with  white  hair  received  me  very  politel}',  but  cautiously. 
She  moved  back  and  sat  down  in  a  great  arm-chair,  the  only  comfortable 
article   of  furniture  in  the  room. 

.  "  The  chair  had  a  stuffed  leather  cushion.  I  noticed  that  she  did  not 
leave  the  chair  during  my  stay,  which  lasted  two  hours.  As  I  rose  to  go,  I 
noticed  again  the  heav}-,  stuffed  leather  cushion. 

"Another  year  passed,  and  I  came  to  the  blacksmith's  shop  again  one 
day,  just  at  nightfall,  early  in  September.  The  golden-rods  were  blooming 
about  the  door,  and  flocks  of  birds  were  gathering  for  migration.  The  low 
sun  blazed  behind  the  reddened  trees,  the  sunbeams  gleaming  here  and  there 
among  the  branches  and  twigs.  I  hailed  Blacksmith  Ainsley,  and  asked  him 
if  he  would  keep  me  over  night. 

" '  I  wish  I  had  better  accommodations,'  he  said.  '  I  like  to  oblige  a 
stranger,  but  I   am  not  situated  now  as  I   wish   I   were.     Ask  wife.' 

"  I  went  to  the  door.  The  white-haired  woman  opened  it  witl\  a  ques- 
tioning look,  moved  back  to  the  same  arm-chaii,  sat  down,  and  offered  me  a 
rude  seat.     I   repeated  the  question  that  I  had  asked  the  blacksmith. 

" '  Heaven  forbid  that  I  should  not  offer  hosi)itality,'  she  said.  *  But  we 
have  only  two  rooms,  this  and  the  other,  and  only  two  beds,  here  and  yonder. 
Couldn't  you  go  farther.''  It  hurts  me  to  say  it;  I  never  in  my  life  turned 
away  a  stranger  when  I  could  help  it.' 

"'I  will  give  you  little  trouble,'  said  I.  'I  am  \'er}'  tired.  Just  let  me 
lie  down  on  the  bed  in  the  other  room  and  give  me  a  bit  for  breakfast,  and  I 
will  pay  you  handsomely.' 


\:\\ 


.<u 


ill 


238 


ZIGZAG   JOURNEYS  IN  THE   GREAT  NORTHIVEST. 


" '  It  is  not  the  pay  about  which  I  am  tliinking,'  said  she. 

"  I  knew  that.     Her  e}-e  moistened,  and  her  h"p  quivered. 

"  '  Well,  you  may  stay,'  said  she.  '  It  is  not  like  me  to  say  no.'  She  then 
became  silent. 

"The  sun  set.  Shadows  fell  across  the  way.  The  old  blacksmith  came 
in  and  lighted  a  tallow  candle.  It  was  dr}'  weather,  and  the  blacksmith  was 
speaking  of  the  effects  of  the  drou<4ht  on  the  crops  and  cattle,  when  there  was 
a  sudden  sound  of  horse's  feet  at  the  door. 

"  '  Some  one  come  to  get  shod,'  ::aid  the  blacksmith.  The  expression  is 
not  to   be  taken  as   it  runs,   but  it  was  a  common   one. 

"  He  opened  the  door.  I  cm  see  him  now.  What  a  change  came  over 
him  !  His  face  trrned  pale,  and  an  expression  passed  over  it  of  utter  helpless- 
ness and  hopelessness,  as  though  life  had  been  stricken  from  his  soul. 

"  His  wife  started  up,  and  then  she  sank  back  into  the  chair  again  with  an 
expression  of  intense   anxiety  and   terror. 

"  The  stranger  came  stalking  in  without  an)-  invitation.  He  was  a  man 
with  a  hard,  determined  face.  He  held  his  whip  in  his  hand,  and  looked 
around.  • 

"  '  What  brings  you  here?  '  said  the  blacksmith. 

"  '  I  must  pass  the  night  here,'  said  the  man.  '  I  have  travelled  far,  and 
have  business   here.     I  wish  you  would   care   for   my  horse !  ' 

"  '  But,  stranger,  I  cannot  accommodate  you,'  said  the  blacksmith.  '  I 
have  but  one  spare  room,  and  that  we  have  promised  to  this  man  who  is 
sitting  here.' 

"  '  Can  you  give  me  a  bit  to  eat?  '  he  asked,  turning  to  the  woman.  She 
did  not  move. 

"  '  Get  the  stranger  something,'  she  said  to  her  husband.  The  man  looked 
at  her  rudely. 

"  '  Are  you  lame,  that  you  do  not  rise  and  acct)mniodate  me  yourself  ?  ' 

"  The  old  woman  made  no  reply. 

"  '  Here,  husband,  you  are  perhaps  tired  ;  sit  down  here  and  I  will  wait  upon 
the  stranger,'     The  blacksmith  sat  down  in  the  arm-chair. 

"  '  It  would  be  better  courtesy,  I  'm  thinking,  if  you  were  to  offer  me  that 
chair,  tired  as  I  am.  Perhaps  \-oa  do  not  know  that  I  am  an  officer  of  the  law,' 
said  the  man,  brutall}'. 

"  The  woman  set  the  table.  I  could  see  that  her  hands  trembled  as  she 
handled  her  dishes. 

"' .Supper  is  read)',' said  she,  at  last.  ,. 

"  She  passed  to  the  arm-chair,  which  her  husband  offered  her. 


and 

'I 

lO    is 

She 


that 
law,' 


■I 


m 

I'  *' 

ji'  it' 

1  ^'. 

r 

■'■^  ,1 

M     1 

1  1' 

1-  i', 

Hi   ■,!' 


Ui 


■ 


BANFF. 


241 


"  Do  you  nc  t  usually  have  grace  before  meat?  '  said  he. 

"'Yes,'  said  the  old  woman.  'Are  you  a  godly  man?'  There  was  a 
hopeful  tone  in  her  voice. 

"  '  I  want  you  to  say  grace,'  said  the  stranger  to  the  blacksmith. 

"  The  blacksmith  rose.  '  Kneel,'  said  the  stranger,  '  and  you  too,'  turning 
to  the  woman.     We  all  knelt  down. 

"  The  old  blacksmith's  voice  began  to  offer  thanks  in  a  tremulous  way,  but 
it  grew  firm.  Suddenly  the  light  was  blown  out.  The  stranger  started  up,  and 
walked  about  heavily  in  the  dark.     What  did  it  mean? 

"  '  1  will  get  a  light  in  a  minute,'  said  the  old  man,  and  then  went  on  to 
finish  the  prayer,  showing  in  this  a  reverent  sincerity  that  has  always  been  a 
mystery  to  me.  At  length  he  rose  from  his  knees,  and  stumbled  about  for  a 
light. 

"The  old  woman  sank  back  into  the  chair.  As  she  did  so  she  uttered  such 
a  cry  of  distress,  ending  with  the  words,  •  It  is  gone,  William  ;    it  is  gone  !  ' 

"  '  What  ?  • 

"  When  the  lamp  was  ]i  htetl.  the  stranger  had  left  the  room.  The 
chair  was  there,  but  the  cushion  was  gone.  The  woman  w.iiled  helplessly, 
*  Oh  !  oh!  after  all  these  years!  '  She  knelt  down  by  the  chair  and  cried  like 
a  child. 

'"It  is  all  over,'  said  the  old  man.  'Don't  cry;  there's  another  world. 
Amy.' 

"  I  turned  from  this  pitiable  scene  to  look  for  my  pack.  It  was  where  I 
had  placed  it.  There  were  sobs  from  the  woman,  and  intervals  of  silence,  for 
an  hour,  I  then  went  to  bed,  having  first  put  my  pack  under  the  bedclothes 
at  my  feet.     I  was  tired,  but  did  not  fall  asleep  until  tow.ird  morning. 

"When  I  awoke,  it  was  broad  day.  The  sun  liui  risen,  and  the  tinged 
leaves  of  the  forest  were  glimmering  in  the  light,  warm  wind.  How  beautiful 
evervthing  looked  through  the  little  window !  1  rose,  dressed,  pulled  my  pack 
from  the  bed,  and  then  went  out  to  the  other  room.  No  owe  was  there.  The 
table  still  was  set  as  on  the  evening  before,  with  the  food  upon  it.  The  great 
chair  was  there,  without  its  cushion.     There  was  no  fire. 

"  I  opened  the  outer  door.  The  siiop  was  empt\' ;  there  was  a  dead  silence 
everywhere,   except  the  call  of  the  ja>s  in  the  walnut-trees. 

"  I  started  toward  the  village,  but  stopped  to  repair  a  clock  and  take  break- 
fast at  a  farm-house.  At  the  village  1  examined  my  pack,  when  another 
mystery  appeared ;    I  found  tliat  my  watches  were  gone. 

"  I  summoned  a  sheriff,  and  went  back.  The  house  was  empty;  everything 
remained  as  T  l.ad  left  it  in  the  morning. 

16 


'i^& 


ill  a 

^  I 

t  r  r.  - 


hi 


'•:,      1 

■  '■  t      1 

[M  i 

• 

m^ 

''  \       ' 

1 

1    , 

m-  * 

1 

K* ' 

i 

'i 


II 


li 
It 


;42 


ZIGZAG  yo(/A\\7':ys  in  the  great  northwest. 


"The  next  year  I  came  again  to  the  place.  It  was  deserted,  as  when  I  last 
saw  it.  No  one  knew, who  the  occupants  had  been,  or  why  or  whither  they 
had  gone.  I  have  asked  myself  a  thousand  times,  What  was  in  the  leather 
cushion?  Were  the  forest  blacksmith  and  his  old  wife  honest  people?  Who 
was  the  mysterious  stranger?     Why  did  he  come? 

"  You  know  as  well  as  I  do,  boys.  (Now  I  will  have  another  pinch  of 
snuff.)  People  do  not  vanish  now  as  they  used  to  do;  times  have  changed. 
As  I  told  you  't  would  be,  you  don't  know  any  more  now  than  when  I  began." 


MR.    LETTE'S   STORY  OF  TRAVEL.  '"' 

THE    "  DEVIL   AMONG    I'HE   TAILORS  "   AT  THE   PONCE. 

Two  years  ago  I  went  to  Florida.  I  have  long  taken  a  great  interest  in 
the  most  rapidly  developing  part  of  America,  and  I  went  South  to  sec  Atlanta, 
Birmingham,  and  those  parts  of  the  Southern  States  that  were  growing  most 
rapidly,  and  offered  promising  fields  for  emigration.  I  visited  Tennessee.-, 
Alabama,  and  Georgia,  then  set  forth  for  St.  .Augustine,  Florida,  going  by  the 
indirect  way  of  Palatka. 

I  had  seen  St.  Augustine  ten  years  ago.  I  recollected  it  well,  and  set  out 
from  Palatka  with  the  old  vision  in  my  mind.  Out  of  a  long  region  of  shadowy 
palm  crowns,  sunny  orange-groves,  and  swamp  fields  of  glimmering  palmetto 
the  train  swept  into  the  open  cf)untry  by  the  sea,  and  crossed  the  St.  Sebastian. 
What  a  wonderful  change !  There  is  no  other  like  it  anywhere.  America 
seemed  to  vanish  at  the  river.  An  Oriental  city  of  airy  towers,  red-tiled  roofs, 
and  acres  of  palaces  half  buried  in  ancient  trees  rose  before  the  eye.  The 
Spanish  tales  of  Washington  Irving  came  to  life  again  in  memory.  Were 
we  looking  out  upon  some  conquered  Moorish  town  in  the  Spain,  of  the 
conquistadors? 

There  was  a  light  pull  at  my  sleeve. 

"  And  now  we  will  go  to  the  Children's  Playroom  in  the  Ponce,  and  see  the 
'  Devil  among  the  Tailors.'  " 

It  was  my  little  P'lorida  cousin,  a  lad  of  twelve  years.  He  pre  iiounced 
"  Ponce"  as  if  it  were  a  common  ICnglish  proper  name. 

My  head  had  been  the  region  of  romance  from  the  moment  the  turreted 
roofs  and  hanging  gardens  began  to  fill  the  eye.  The  palaces  of  coquina  (shell 
marble)  before  me  had  arisen  since  I  last  saw  St.  Augustine,  as  under  the  wand 
of  an  enchanter. 


BANFF. 


243 


rrctcd 
(shell 
wand 


"  The  Children's  Playroom  at  the  Ponce,"  —  what  was  that;  and  "  the  Devil 
among  the  Tailors"? 

The  train  stopped  at  a  long  station.  We  stepped  out  into  a  tropical  garden. 
The  railway  stations  in  England  are  famous  for  their  flower  gardens,  but  we 
never  saw  there  any  like  this. 

I  stopped  a  moment  to  view  the  scene  before  me.  The  town  lay  under  the 
quiet  blue  sky,  green  with  fringes  of  orange-groves.  The  sky  itself  was  won- 
derfully beautiful.  It  was  as  soft  as  that  of  Seville,  delicately  blue,  as  it  were 
an  arch  over  the  luminous  air.  The  balmy  Gulf  winds  just  stirred  the  gray 
Spanish  mosses  in  the  old  live-oaks  about  the  town ;  pinnacles  everywhere 
kindled  and  blazed  ;  open  balconies  and  airy  corridors,  —  all  rising  over  acres 
upon  acres  of  red-tiled  roofs  and  trees  eternally  green.  It  was  my  first  view  of 
new  St.  Augustine. 

"  Have  a 'bus  for  the  Ponce?  " 

Hc\  too,  had  Americanized  the  fine  old  Spanish  word.  It  seemed  like  the 
throwing  of  a  bottle  of  ink  against  a  masterpiece  of  tone  color.  "  A  'bus  for 
the  Ponce  "  and  "  the  Devil  among  the  Tailors,"  indeed  ! 

My  little  cousin  pulled  me  forward,  and  hurried  me  toward  the  town.  At 
every  step  the  wonder  grew.  A  long  line  of  carriages  swept  ahead  of  the  foot 
passengers  and  travellers,  and  these  were  already  being  welcomed  by  the 
Spanish  band.  I  was  in  the  land  of  fancy  again.  America  had  at  last  pro- 
duced a  poem  of  Mosaic  and  native  stone  gems  and  sea  marbles  as  romantic 
as  the  Taj,  as  lovely  as  the  Alhambra;   it  was  here. 

"  I  am  told  that  Flagler  has  spent  six  millions  of  money  on  his  hotels,  and 
is  going  to  lay  out  four  millions  more.  Do  you  think  that  he  will  ever  get  his 
money  back?  " 

This  was  prosaic  enough,  and  clipped  the  wings  of  my  fancy.  There 
was  something  really  noble  in  the  answer  to  the  mysterious  question  which  I 
had  heard  behind  me. 

"  I  think  that  Mr.  P^lagler  feels  a  patriotic  pride  in  what  he  is  doing;  that 
he  is  a  true  American  gentleman,  and  does  not  consider  the  matter  of  gains  or 
losses  at  all.  What  he  has  done  is  a  historic  credit  to  the  whole  country.  A 
man  who  so  .spends  his  money  is  a  benefactor." 

The  gentleman  to  whom  the  allusion  was  made  is  Mr.  H.  M.  Flagler, 
the  builder  of  the  two  principal  palace  hotels,  the  Ponce  de  Leon  and  the 
.'\lca7.ar. 

The  Spanish  hotel  palaces  now  confronted  us,  and  we  stood  before  the  two 
lions'  heads  at  the  gateway  to  the  Ponce  de  Leon,  under  the  iron  portcullis  and 
its  beautiful  arch  of  tracery  and  airy  colorings.     Could  this  be  America?     We 


iti 


hi ; 


244 


ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS  IN  THE  GREAT  NORTHWEST. 


Hi 


■T* 


'I 


m^.  '■ 


stopped  to  look  around,  amid  the  odors  of  rose  gardens,  the  flash  of  fountains, 
and  the  music  of  mandolins.  Courts,  turrets,  Moorish  towers,  loggias,  and  cool 
retreats,  acres  of  red  roofs,  with  art  and  beauty  everywhere ! 


EARLY   SETTLERS 


There  was  another  pull  at  my  sleeve. 

"  Let  us  go  up  to  the  Children's  Play-      y 
room.     I  want  to  see  the  '  Devil  among  the 
Tailors.'     We  shall  have  time  to   see  these 
things  afterward." 

"  But  what  do  you  mean  by  the  '  Devil 
among  the  Tailors  '  ?  " 

"  Oh,  don't  you  know  ?     It  is  a  great  game 
down   hero.      Everybody  goes  to  see   it.      Vou 

spin  a  steel  top  on  a  marble  surface,  and  it  goes  whirring  into  a  great  doll- 
house  all  full  of  little  doors  and  rooms  and  compartments.  In  the  little  rooms 
the  tailors  are  supposed  to  be  at  work,  and  the  top  bounces  around  each  little 
room  until  it  finds  the  door,  and  then  it  goes  through  and  knocks  over  all  the 
tailors,  or  most  of  them,  and  then  it  finds  the  door  to  the  next  little  room,  and 
goes  spinning  in  and  knocks  over  the  tailors  there,  and  so  on  and  on  ;   and  he 


i 


i" 


^ 


BANFF. 

who  can  start  the  top  so  as  to  knock  over  the  most  tailors  wins  the  game.  Oh. 
it  is  all  too  funny  for  anything.  The  greatest  people  go  to  see  it,  —  senators, 
governors,  artists,  singers.     Come,  and  I  vvill  show  you." 

"  But  what  do  I  care  for  a  toy  game  amid  all  this  magnificence  ?  " 

"  Oh,  there  is  too  much  of  it !  It  makes  me  tired  !  I  like  to  see  something 
I  can  understand." 

Oliver  Goldsmith  once  actracted  much  attention  on  a  London  street  until 
there  came  along  a  man  with  a  hand-organ  and  a  monkey.  He  was  then  left 
to  pass  on  unnoticed.  He  thought  the  world  very  strange  and  changeable. 
The  Ponce  de  Leon's  gorgeous  courts  and  rooms  all  seemed  to  lose  their 
interest  for  young  people  after  some  genius  introduced  into  the  Children's 
Playroom  at  the  top  of  the  building  the  very,  very  funny  game  of  the  "  Devil 
among  the  Tailors." 

I  allowed  the  persistent  little  hand  to  lead  me  on.  We  passed  through  the 
court, — who  can  describe  it?  —  through  the  reception-room,  all  so  bewildering 
as  to  be  oppressive,  amid  music  and  flowers  and  tone  colorings,  over  pavements 
of  beautiful  stone. 

"  The  Playroom,"  said  my  little  cousin  to  the  elevator  boy. 

Up  we  went  to  a  room  in  the  rotunda,  all  beauty  and  balconies  and  out- 
looks on  pile  upon  pile  of  historic  art.  I  found  myself  amid  a  crowd  that  sur- 
rounded the  seemingly  magic  toy. 

Presently  a  small,  bright-looking  girl  drew  the  string  around  the  steel  top 
through  a  hole  in  the  board  framework  of  a  little  platform  of  open-topped 
rooms,  so  as  to  give  it  force.  It  began  to  spin  on  the  polished  surface.  It 
found  its  way  into  the  first  little  room,  or  open  compartment,  and  knocked  over 
the  tailor.  It  bounded  around  the  room  until  it  found  the  next  little  door, 
when  it  entered  and  continued  its  destructive  work.  It  went  on  and  on ;  it 
seemed  as  though  it  would  never  stop.  What  mysterious  laws  of  motion  kept 
it  going? 

The  top  entered  all  the  rooms  and  knocked  dov.n  nearly  all  the  poor 
tailors. 

There  was  a  joyous  shout.  The  number  of  the  tailors  overturned  was 
marked  upon  a  blackboard,  when  a  boy  came  forward,  a  counterpart  of  little 
Lord  Fauntleroy,  and  wished  to  try  so  to  start  the  top  as  to  topple  over  all  the 
tailors. 

It  was  fascinating;  but  what  was  I  doing  here  in  a  children's  playhouse, 
while  I  was  on  such  historic  ground? 

There  were  the  landing-place  of  the  poetic  old  adalantado.  Ponce  de  Leon ; 
the  scene  of  the  Spaniards'  Mission;   Hie  ruins  of  old  Fort  Caroline,  of  the 


I 


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246  , 


ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS  IN  THE   GREAT  NORTHWEST. 


Huguenots ;  the  bloody  Matanza,  green  with  eternal  palms ;  gray  Fort  Marion, 
the  place  of  the  English  sea-kings  and  the  torture-house  of  the  Sp.uiiards;  the 
decayed  plantations  of  the  Minorcans,  and  the  shell  lands  of  the  Scmmoles. 

Here  rose  the  pillar  of  stone  with  the  arms  of  France;  here  bir  Francis 
Drake,  who  ploughed  a  sea  furrow  around  the  world,  came  pillaging  the  coast 
and  returned  thence  for  England  with  a  ship  of  gold ;  here  Mendcnez  rctldened 
the  land  with  noble  blood;  here  Father  Juniper  preached,  and  Ribault  and 
Laudonniere  sang  on  the  River  of  May,  now  the  St.  John's. 

I  broke  away  from  the  bewildering  little  game,  and  went  down  the  bewitch- 
ing palace  stairs.  I  glanced  at  the  famous  dining-room  and  its  panorama, 
where  the  exploits  and  dreams  of  old  Ponce  de  Leon  appear  as  if  in  a  vision. 
Then  I  went  out  beyond  all  the  great  area  of  the  mosque  of  old  palaces  to  Fort 
Marion  and  the  old  sea-wall.  The  sky  was  flushed  with  the  sunset,  blue  and . 
amber  and  crimson.     I  had  stood  on  the  same  place  six  y<virs  before. 

I  turned  and  looked  back.  Uld  St.  Augustine  was  gone.  The  frost  of  1886 
had  withered  its  ancient  date-palm,  and  the  fire  of  1887  had  swept  from  the 
Plaza  the  old  cathedral  and  its  cross  of  bells.  Before  me  lay  new  St.  Augus- 
tine, with  taller  date-palms  and  a  grander  cathedral,  with  new  spires  and  towers, 
and  acres  of  palace-like  structures  that  had  gathered  to  themselves  the  Spanish 
and  Moorish  art  of  a  thousand  years.  It  is  the  most  beautiful  and  poetic  city 
in  America. 

I  had  left  my  little  cousin  in  the  Playroom.  I  went  back  and  found  him 
there.  He  had  been  trying  hi.s  hand  at  the  wonderful  top,  much  to  the  delight 
of  a  governor,  an  artist,  and  a  poet. 

"This  reminds  me  of  what  Shakespeare  —  'Puck*  —  says,"  said  the  gov- 
ernor to  me. 

"  Do  not  repeat  it,"  begged  the  artist.     ("  What  fools  these  mortals  be  !  "  ; 

"  St.  Augustine  was  always  a  place  of  tragedies,"  continued  the  governor, 
as  one  after  another  the  poor  tailors  went  over  before  the  endlessly  spinning 
top. 

"  Come,  we  will  go  to  dinner,"  said  I  to  my  little  Florida  cousin;  and  amid 
the  Spanish  music  of  the  band  we  went  down  to  the  dining-room  of  golden 
windows,  and  took  our  dinner  amid  the  painted  visions  of  the  romantic  old 
adalantado,  Ponce  de  Leon. 


C 


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o 


I  I 


11  ^    S 


;   I 


BANFF. 


249 


ON  THE   GRKAT   GLACIER. 

A  half  hour's  walk  from  the  Summit  or  Glacier  House  found  our  travellers 
on  the  stupendous  mass  of  the  Great  Glacier.  The  Great  Glacier,  that  looks  so 
dark  and  broken  from  the  railway,  —  what  is  it? 

In  reality  it  is  a  moving  river  of  ice,  grinding  its  way  over  the  granite  moun- 
tains,—  a  frozen  Rio  Grande,  Colorado,  or  Columbia,  travelling.  Now  it  is 
shallow ;  now  it  measures  u  depth  of  two  thousand  feet.  Great  green  forests 
and  rocky  cliffs  border  its  slow  eternal  march. 

When  did  this  march  begin?  When  was  this  mass,  over  which  the  eagles 
wheel,  frozen?     How  old  is  this  glittering  ice-river? 

No  one  can  tell.  The  settler  views  it  from  the  far-off  valleys,  and  pauses  in 
wonder.  It  lies  in  the  sunset  a  pile  of  splendor,  and  the  moon  changes  it  into 
palaces  of  crystal  in  the  high  and  voiceless  air. 

It  pours  down  to  the  green  valleys  a  thousand  waterfalls.  One  hears  these 
sun-loosened  streams  eternally  singing.  Every  newly  explored  solitude  bears 
witness  to  the  musical  glasses  of  the  mountains. 

The  river  travels  over  the  wrecks  of  old  volcanoes,  and  through  rents  that 
the  ages  have  been  crumbling.     Was  the  great  sea  of  ice  once  a  sea  of  fire? 

How  many  ages  has  the  moon  glimmered  above  it,  and  the  night  led  over 
it  the  long  procession  of  stars? 

What  eye  first  beheld  it,  and  out  of  what  mysterious  migrations  did  the 
people  who  first  saw  it  come? 

What  changes  of  fire  and  water  and  internal  upheaval  left  it  here  to  melt  in 
the  eternal  sun,  and  be  renewed  again  in  the  nights  of  the  long  arrays  of 
winters?  • 

Below  it  silently  moves  the  glorious  Columbia,  which  one  has  well  called 
the  Achilles  of  rivers.  Sky-born  indeed  it  is ;  we  stand  at  its  birthplace  and 
try  to  dream  how  it  falls  through  gorges  and  canons,  gathering  force,  until,  a 
calm  and  placid  flood,  it  mingles  its  waters  with  the  far-off  Pacific.  Another 
stream  has  its  beginning  beside  it,  and  rolls  down  to  the  north  and  becomes  a 
river,  and  pours  its  flood  into  Hudson  Ra>-. 

Glorious  and  mysterious  is  the  Great  Glacier  under  the  stars !  Tt  is  the 
most  beautiful  mirror  of  heaven  in  the  New  World.  Stand  in  one  of  its  great 
caverns  which  beasts  and  eagles  shun,  and  look  outward  and  upward  to  the 
lamps  of  night.  One  seems  more  than  mortal  then  ;  the  lights  of  the  homes  of 
more  than  mortal  beings  seem  to  glimmer  about  him,  and  he  wonders  if  he 
shall  know  more  of  the  great  city  of  the  universe  when  his  soul  shall  be  free. 


i! 


1 


2  50 


ZJGZ.ia   JOURAEVS  L\  THE   GREAT  NORTHWEST. 


What  to  him  arc;  the  selfish  aims  of  Hfc  here?  What  is  wealth;  \vh;it 
fame;   what  the  j;litterin<f  halls  that  feed  the  animal  appetite? 

The  soul  can  fiiul  no  relief  but  in  adoration.  It  thirsts  for  spiritual 
knowledge. 

Life  seems  but  a  passini,^  day  in  the  calendar  of  the  ages.  \  few  springs 
light  the  hills,  and  a  few  autumns  wither  the  leaves,  and  iiiiiiiortaiitiis  adist, — 
eternity  is  at  hand.  Great  resolutions  crowd  upon  the  soul,  —  to  rise  above  sin, 
to  be  high-minded  and  spiritual,  to  serve  humanit)-,  to  do  the  grand  deeds  of 
heroic  endeavor  with  humility  and  awe.  All  dream  such  dreams  on  these 
mountain  stairs.      The  old  conceptions  of  life  all  change  here. 

As  when  one  listens  to  a  symphony,  he  becomes  aware  of  great  aspirations 
of  soul  to  which  he  before  was  a  stranger !  One  only  knows  how  grand  he 
is  in  his  inner  life  when  he  has  an  experience  like  this.  Immortality  may  liave 
been  a  doubt  at  Calgary,  but  it  is  a  certainty  here.  Only  an  immortal  soul 
could  so  glow,  expand,  and  feel  its  wings.  Could  such  an  inspiration  continue, 
what  godlike  beings  men  would  be  ! 

But  see  that  party  of  dark  forms  hurrying  down  the  glacier  toward  the 
twinkling  lights  of  the  Glacier  Mouse  !  The  spirits  of  speculation  flock  around 
them  again.  Ambition  returns,  —  appetite,  selfisliness.  On  the  Glacier 
thoughts  were  eagles  cleaving  celestial  air;   now  they  are  buzzards  again. 

In  the  morning  the  train  goes  screaming  away  among  the  Sclkirks.  The 
tourists  now  seem  like  a  different  order  of  beings.  But  each  one  has  had  a  view 
of  soul  possibilities  that  none  probably  ever  had  before.  These  views  will 
return  again  in  dreams,  in  solitudes,  in  churches,  and  by  the  caskets  of  the 
dead.  Life  will  always  be  lifted  by  them  ;  it  is  indeed  a  glorious  thing  to  have 
stood  at  night  on  the  Great  Glacier  of  the  Rocky  Mountains,  and  to  see  one's 
self  as  the  angels  see  life,  and  to  have  felt  the  movement  of  the  little  planet 
amid  the  ages  gone  and  the  ages  to  come,  and  to  have  wondered  if  conscious 
life  is  an  endless  progression,  and  to  have  felt  that  it  indeed  was  so. 


/5 

< 


O 


i'H 


■ 


■ 


CHAPTER   X. 


m 


IN   THE   AMERICAN    SWITZERLAND. 


^i^t' TC[!C^ H E  five  hundred  miles  ride  through  the  clouds  and 
great  volcanic  systems  of  the  Rockies  from  Banff  Hot 
Springs  to  Vancouver  is  the  grandest  that  can  be 
made  in  North  America  or  in  Europe.  The  train 
sweeps  into  a  forested  valley  toward  the  Vermil- 
ion Lakes,  and  the  glance  backward  is  a  thrilling 
vision.  The  road  is  upward.  Presently  a  great  ice-river  appears, 
yellow  with  age,  and  Hector  is  reached,  and  Mount  Stephen,  at 
an  altitude  of  5,296  feet,  about  as  high  as  Mount  Lafayette,  in  the 
White  Hills  of  New  Hampshire.  The  station  is  at  the  summit  of 
the  Rockies.  The  scenery  here  is  colossal  and  terrible.  One  feels 
his  littleness  and  the  lightness  of  his  temporal  concerns  here  if  any- 
where. Mount  Stephen  rises  to  a  height  of  some  eight  thousand 
feet  from  the  valley,  —  as  high  as  the  Greek  Olympus.  On  its  shoul- 
der is  an  emerald  glacier  some  eight  hundred  feet  in  thickness,  which 
is  slowly  travelling  toward  the  vertical  cliff.  We  now  follow  the 
W^apta  (Kicking  Horse)  Canons. 

The  Wapta  is  like  a  Niagara  broken  loose,  and  finding  its  long 
way  through  mountains,  dashing  and  foaming,  and  seemingly  flowing 
backward  as  it  rushes  against  tens  of  thousands  of  rocks  and  stones. 
Its  apparent  backward  waves  is  not  the  cause  of  its  being  called 
the  Kicking  Horse.  A  mule,  according  to  the  tradition,  refu.sed  to 
move  forward  or  backward  on  the  high  pass  over  the  caiion.     He 


If  :;>a 


-T 


If; 


1 


254 


ZIGZAG   JOURNEYS  IN  THE  GREAT  NORTHWEST. 


11  ?!!' 


li 


II- 


'"01^'^^ 


stopped  in  this  most  perilous  place,  and  kicked  and  kicked.  Hence 
the  gorge  became  known  as  the  place  where  the  horse  or  mule 
stopped  and  kicked,  or  Kicking  Horse  Caiion,  and  the  wonderful 
cascade  river  of  the  high  Rockies  took  the  unpoetic  name.  The 
Wapta  is  the  true  name,  but  that  does    not  do  justice   to  the   wild, 

mad,  glacial  stream. 

"  Come  this  way,"  cries  on-^  of  the 
passengers  on  the  train.  "  Oh,  such  a 
cascade!  but  it  is  gone." 

"  Come  this  way,  all,"  cries  another. 
Such  a  waterfall   I    never  saw  !      We 
have  passed  it  now." 

"Here!  here! "  cry 
others.  Tourists  run 
from  one  side  of  the 
car  to  another.  Some 
weep,  some  laugh, 
some  are  o  v  e  i- 
whelmed,  and  desire 
nothing  so  much  as 
silence.  The  rail- 
■  '  *         way  and  river  plunge 

together  under  towering  cliffs.  The  Co- 
lumbia River  is  reached  and  crossed,  and 
we  are  in  view  of  the  supremely  lovely 
Selkirks,  which  seem  to  be  the  feminine 
mountains  in  all  this  warring  giant  land. 

The  grandeur  culminates  at  the  Glacier  House.  The  train  stops 
before  the  Great  Glacier,  which  is  some  thirty-eight  miles  square, 
and  .said  to  be  greater  than  any  in  Switzerland.  It  rises  like  a 
roof  of  a  grand  cathedral,  and  over  it  towers  t!-.o  granite  pyramid 
of  Sir  Donald,  a  shaft  fit  for  the  monument   of   a   John    Hampden 


YALE,    ON   TltF,    KRASF.R    RIVER. 


■~fl 


y. 

< 


2: 
u 
*-> 

H 

O 


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'  1  'i 


i!'-    ,11 


\  ■ 


■i  ■ 


IN   THE  AMERICAN  SWITZERLAND. 


257 


or  a  Gladstone,  a  mile  and  a  half  high.  Think  of  a  train  ring- 
ing its  bell  between  such  a  glacier  and  monumental  pinnacle.  Was 
there  ever  seen  such  a  pass  or  monolith  ?  Did  ever  a  railroad 
car  rest  in  such  a  "place  ?  The  walls  here  touch  the  sky ;  tourists' 
heads  hang  on  the  back  of  their  necks.  He  has  not  seen  how 
grand  Nature  can  be,  who  has  not  stood  in  this  place.  The  Great 
Glacier  is  only  about  a  mile  away  from  the  hotel.  Beautiful  is  the 
name  and  more  beautiful  are  the  waters  of  the  Illecilliwact.  It 
is  a  pea-green  stream,  fed  by  glaciers,  and  seems  to  bear  to  the 
world  joy  from  the  crystal  palaces  in  the  atmospheres  of  the  sun. 
It  calls  for  poets,  for  artists,  for  composers.  It  is  poetry  and  .art  and 
music. 

On,  on  goes  the  train,  over  violet  and  emerald  rivers,  under 
cities  of  castles  that  no  man  inhabits,  through  long  snow-sheds, 
under  dark  cliffs  and  luminous  glaciers,  the  scene  shifting  at  every 
turn,  —  on,  on,  ever  on.     When  will  the  wonders  cease.'' 

The  mountains  grow  lower.  There  is  a  new  peace  in  the  air. 
The  heavens  are  expanding  and  coming  back  again.  The  rivers 
grow  wider.  Houses  multiply,  and  farms,  and  churches.  There 
is  a  gleam  of  a  violet  harbor.  How  restful  it  seems !  There  are 
ships  and  steamboats  and  the  English  flag.  We  are  gliding  into  a 
city  again.  The  train  goes  slowly.  The  conductor  hurries  through 
the  cars  and  cries,  "  Vancouver !  " 


I  '(■; 


% 


'.W 


W 


1 1, . 

is  t 


VANCOUVER. 

There  are  three  cities  on  the  Pacific  slope  of  British  Columbia 
that  are  indeed  beautiful  in  their  situatign  and  surroundings.  They 
are  Vancouver,  New  Westminster,  and  Victoria.  A  city  of  won- 
derful growth  is  Vancouver.  It  seems  destined  to  become  the 
London  of  Canada.  In  1886  it  was  a  forest,  and  such  a  forest! 
The    trees    were  giants.     Let  one  stand  before  the  high  stumjDS  of 

»7 


m 


.SB*", 


'";■' 
i 


Ik., a 


i;   1 


it' 

ll 


258 


Z/GZAG  JOURNEYS  IN  THE  GREAT  NORTHWEST. 


the  two  trees  that  form  the  natural  gate-posts  of  the 


Park,  and  he   will  wonder  at  the    battle    between 


•eat  Vancouver 
rne  pioneers  and 
the  trees,  and  that 
man  ever  was  able 
to  make  so  rapid 
a  conquest.  There 
was  a  stump  in 
New  Westminster 
that  it  cost  some 
forty  dollars  to 
remove ;  there  is 
a  hollow  stump  of 
a  giant  tree  near 
F  r  a  s  e  r  Rive  r, 
in  which  it  is  said 
that  two  horses 
and  a  yoke  of  oxen 
could  be  stabled  ; 
and  we  are  told  of 
old  evergreen  lords 
of  the  forest  that 
tower  above  three 
hundred  feet  high. 
The  dooryards  of 
the  expandijig  city 
of  Vancouver  are 
full  of  stumps  that 
are  large  enough 
for  tables. 
Mountain  walled  is  \^incouver,  with  the  blue  Puget  Sound  rolling 
like  a  winding  river  amid  the  great  forests  at  the  foot  of  the  long 
elevations.     The  climate  is  the  Chinook,  or  almost  continuous  April 


CAIMBOO    ROAD    HKIDGE    OVKR   THK   FItASI  IC    ItlVF.K. 


/A'   THE  AMERICAN  SWITZERLAND. 


259 


weather.  The  census?  No  one  can  fix  it  any  more  than  one  could 
count  an  old  herd  of  the  plains  that  gathered  force  on  its  march. 
The  city  is  levelling  the  great  trees  in  the  dark  forest  valleys,  and  is 
building,  building;  the  tap  of  the  hammer  is  heard  like  the  drill  of 
an  army.  The  poor  emigrant  knows  that  a  continual  fire  will  waste 
anything,  and   so  about  the   high   stumps  of  the   nnmense  tree   she 


'  3 

is 


If  1; 


HOTEL   VANCOUVER,    VANCOUVER.    BRITISH   COLUMBIA. 

keeps  the  flame  in  continual  activity.     The  great  woods  smoke ;  the 
new  settlements  smoke ;  the  hills  smoke. 

Here  is  Canada's  future  port  of  China  and  Japan.  Here  is  the 
port  of  the  great  coal-mines.  Here  is  the  market  of  one  of  the 
most  wonderful  farming  districts.  A  mighty  sweep  of  history  is  in- 
tended for  Vancouver. 


:;i 


\  il 


B!     ;l 


26o 


ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS  IN  THE  GREAT  NORTHWEST. 


The  Cascade  Mountains  smile  upon  her,  —  the  snow-lined  and 
shining  Olympus ;  behind  her  rolls  the  glorious  Gulf  of  Georgia ; 
out   of   her   streets   sweeps   the   gigantic    water-road    of    the    Fraser ; 


WA 


'ft  \ 


ON  THE  HOMATHCO   RIVER,   BRITISH  COLUMBIA. 

and    Mount    Baker  looks   over  all   like  a  beneficent  father,  crystal 
crowned,  and  mantled  in  eternal  snow. 

New  Westminster,  from  the  hills  overlooking  the  Fraser,  is  a 
twin  city  of  progress  and  beauty.  There  can  hardly  be  a  more 
thrifty  community  in  the  world  than  here. 


IN   THE  AMERICAN  SWITZERLAND. 


261 


f.^ 


Victoria  is  a  little  England,  in  climate,  in  people,  in  quiet  homes 
protected  by  inherited  wealth,  and  in  parks  of  wonderful  beauty. 
Here  the  traditional  fine  "  old  English  gentleman  "  would  find  himself 
quite  at  home  and  at  ease.  It  looks  serenely  out  on  the  Juan  de 
Fuca,  and  is  guarded  by  mountain  walls  that  fill  the  air.  Thence  go 
ships  to  the  many  ports  of  the  world,  —  to  Asia  and  South  America. 
Americans  who  stop  at  the  quiet  hotels  are  filled  with  delight  at 
the  beauty  of  the  mountains,  the  sea,  and  the  air;  they  are  reluc- 
tant to  leave  the  noble  parks,  and  the  cathedral-like  aisles  of  the 
woods.  The  English  people  all  love  the  little  Liverpool  that  was, 
and  the  great  Liverpool  that  is  to  be. 


THE  JAPAN   CURRENT. 

Look  upon  your  map  of  ocean  currents  in  your  physical  geog- 
raphy, and  you  will  find  a  stream  of  water  running  between  the  coasts 
of  China  and  Japan  and  the  Puget  Sound.  It  is  called  the  Japan 
Current.  It  is  four  thousand  miles  long.  Its  water  is  warm,  and  it 
warms  the  shores  of  the  Pacific  from  Mexican  California  to  Alaska. 
Over  this  stream  ships  sail  rapidly,  and  usually  in  calm  water,  and 
over  it  a  great  body  of  the  commerce  between  England,  America, 
and   Asia  is   likely  to  come  and  go.  ^ 

Look  again  on  the  map  of  the  world,  and  see  how  long  is  the 
present  distance  between  the  English  ports  and  those  of  China  and 
Japan.  England  carries  her  goods  to  eastern  Asia  over  an  ocean 
route  of  some  twelve  thousand  miles.  The  ocean  route  from  the  ports 
of  the  Puget  Sound  is  only  about  four  thousand  miles,  and  British 
Columbia  and  Washington  and  Oregon  will  soon  be  able  to  produce 
for  the  Asiatic  market  many  of  the  goods  and  supplies  now  manu- 
factured in  England. 

And  how  great  is  that  market  likely  to  become !  The  population 
of  China  is  some  three  hundred  and  sixty  millions.     Japan  is  growing 


\A    ■ 


I'      i 


262 


ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS  IN  THE   GREAT  NORTHWEST. 


in    intelligence,   and    is   calling    upon    the    world    for   all    the  arts  of 
progress. 

.  The  great  Xorthwest  Territory  is  full  of  productions  that  eastern 
Asia  needs  and  must  have,  and  it  is  the  law  of  trade  to  seek  the 
shortest  routes.  The  boast  of  Vancouver  that  she  will  rival  Montreal, 
and  of  Seattle  and  Tacoma  that  they  will  one  day  be  the  New  Yorks 
of  the  Pacific,  is  not  without  a  basis  of  reasonable  suggestion.  The 
State  of  Washington  is  to  act  no  common  part  in  the  future  of  the 
United  States.     She  is  likely  one  day  to  lead  the  great  Republic. 

Over  this  warm  ocean  current  between  Asia  and  the  Puget  Sound 
what  processions  of  ships  may  go  during  the  centuries  to  come  ! 
What  trade-transforming  steamers !  what  argosies  of  wealth  that  will 
bring  back  golden  fleeces!  what  navies!  what  pleasure  craft!  It  is 
this  water-belt  that  is  likely  to  bind  the  oldest  and  newest  civilizations, 
and  bring  them  into  one  common  brotherhood.  Here  the  West  will 
meet  the  East,  and  will  teach  the  East  the  same  truths  that  the  East 
gave  to  mankind  thousands  of  years  ago.  So  nations  rise  and  decay, 
and  progress  passes  from  one  land  to  another  ;  but  truth  lives  and 
seeks  its  best  interpreters,  and  they  who  receive  it  become  powerful 
and  wise,  and  their  acts  encircle  the  earth  ! 

STORY   OI<^   THE   NAMING   OF    PLACES   ON    PUG1<:T   SOUND. 

The  \cars  1891  and  1892  should  witness  some  patriotic  celebrations  in 
British  Columbia,  Washington,  and  Oregon,  besides  those  that  relate  '  to  the 
Columbian  discovery.  Four  new  stars  have  lately  appeared  on  the  American 
flag,  and  the  brightest  of  these  is  Washington.  It  was  in  the  years  1791  and 
1792  that  Puget  Sound,  Mount  liakcr,  and  Mount  Ranier  (Tacoma)  received 
their  names;  and  these  years  may  well  be  made  to  commemorate  the  worth, 
magnitude,  and  glory  of  the  great  voyage  of  Vancouver  and  his  lieutenants  to 
the  Northern  Seas, 

It  was  on  the  15th  of  Decomber,  1790,  that  Capt.  George  Vancouver  re- 
ceived his  commission  as  commander  of  His  Majesty's  sloop  the  "  Discovery;  " 
and  since  the  days  of  Drake,  and    the  old  sea-kings  of   l^lizabelhan  age,  few 


esss 


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IN  THE  AMERICAN  SWITZERLAND. 


265 


vessels  have  set  forth  from  any  port  that  opened  the  way  to  such  grand  his- 
torical achievements.  The  discovery  of  the  Northwestern  Empire  must  now 
rank  among  the  great  events  of  the  world.  Mere  the  rich  port  cities  of  the 
Pacific  are  to  rise  and  grow.  Already  England  finds  her  swift  commercial 
highway  from  Liverpool  to  Hong-Kong  over  the  Canadian  plains  and  moun- 
tains, and  out  of  the  sunset  ports  of  Puget  Sound.  The  violet  waters  of  this 
Mediterranean  of  the  West  are  already  white  with  sails,  and  crowding  with  the 
floating  cities  of  giant  steamers.  Look  upon  the  map  and  note  the  warm 
ocean  current  that  runs  from  Japan  along  the  shores  o[  Alaska,  and  down  to  the 
coast  of  Northern  California.  The  shores  of  this  warm  ocean-river  are  to  be 
a  new  world.  The  great  ports  of  iron,  coal,  lumber,  and  precious  ores,  of  hops, 
fruit,  and  a  hundred  agricultural  industries,  of  the  teas  of  China  and  the  silks 
of  Japan,  are  to  be  in  the  Puget  Sound.  Here  is  to  rise  the  other  New  York 
and  the  other  Boston. 

The  discovery  and  naming  of  the  Puget  Sound,  its  grand  mountains,  bays, 
and  rivers,  have  been  made  great  events  of  history  by  the  emigration  that  is 
flowing  to  these  April  regions  from  all  enlightened  lands.  We  copy  from  the 
journals  of  George  Vancouver  his  own  account  of  these  beginnings  of  the 
wonderful  history.  Vancouver  seems  to  have  had  a  heart  formed  for  friend- 
ship, and  he  named  many  of  the  places  of  the  sublimely  picturesque  region 
that  he  visited  under  the  blue  spring  sky  and  in  the  burning  noons  and  long 
crimson  morning  and  evening  twilights  of  the  June  days  of  1792,  for  the  honor 
of  his  faithful  officers  and  his  best-loved  friends.  Among  the  officers  on  the 
"  Discovery"  we  find  the  names  of  Lieut.  Peter  Puget,  Lieut.  Joseph  Baker,  and 
Joseph  Whidbey,  names  that  are  eternally  fixed  in  the  geography  of  the  north- 
ern empire.  The  following  notes  and  extracts  are  little  histories  of  remarka- 
ble interest  and  value.     They  closely  follow  Vancouver's  own   narrative. 

Following  the  coast  northward  from  Cape  Mendocino,  on  Tuesday,  April  24, 
1792,  Vancouver  sighted  an  extremity  of  the  mainland  projecting  from  the 
high,  rocky  coast  a  considerable  way  into  the  sea.  This  he  distinguished  by 
the  name  of  Cape  Orford,  in  honor  of  his  friend,  the  Earl  (George)  of  that 
title. 

Sunday,  the  29th,  he  discovered  the  first  sail  he  had  seen  for  eight  months ; 
she  proved  to  be  the  ship  "  Columbia,"  Captain  Gray,  of  Boston,  the  same  who 
had  been  reported  to  have  penetrated  the  Strait  of  Juan  de  Fuca,  but  who  had 
really  only  penetrated  it  for  fifty  miles.  On  the  same  day  the  snow-covered 
summit  of  Mounc  Olympus  was  seen.  Later  in  the  day  Cape  Flattery  was 
rounded,  and  the  Strait  entered. 

Continuing   their  progress  until    nightfall   of  the  30th,  they  anchored   for 


1 

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lilt 


isfi! 


266 


ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS  IN  THE   GREAT  NORTHWEST. 


\ 


tlic  night  under  a  long  sandy  point  of  land  projecting  from  tlie  cliffs  into  the 
sea.  This  point,  from  its  resemblance  to  Dungeness  in  the  British  Channel, 
Vancouver  called  New  Uungeness. 

During  the  afternoon  Vancouver's  third  lieutenant  hiid  discovered  a  very 
high,  conspicuous,  craggy  mountain,  towering  above  the  clouds,  and  covered 
with  snow  as  low  down  as  they  allowed  it  to  be  visible.  From  their  anchorage 
it  rose  very  conspicuously,  and  in  compliment  to  the  lieutenant  it  was  called 
Mount  Baker. 

On  Wednesday,  May  2,  1792,  a  harbor  was  reached  which,  says  Vancouver, 
could  not  have  been  placed  more  happily  for  the  protection  of  the  port  from 
winds  and  enemies,  had  it  been  designed  by  the  most  able  engineer.  This  he 
named,  after  his  ship.  Port  Discovery.  A  few  days  were  nov  spent  in  making 
tiie  necessary  repairs  to  sails,  etc.,  and  the  serenii;  --f  the  climate  and  of  the 
season  was  extremely  favorable  to  the  execution  of  their  several  duties. 

Monday  morning,  the  7th,  the  "Discovery's"  yawl  and  launch,  and  the 
"  Chatham's  "  cutter,  properly  armed  and  supplied  with  stores,  started  out  to 
extend  their  researches   into  the  new  country. 

The  result  was  the  discovery  of  a  pleasanter,  safer,  and  more  capacious  har- 
bor than  Port  Discovery;  to  this  port  he  gave  the  name  of  Port  Townshend, 
in  honor  of  the  noble  Marquis  of  that  name. 

Marrow-Stone  Point  was  the  name  given  to  a  high,  steep  cliff  which  seemed 
to  be  principally  composed  of  that  stone. 

A  round,  snow}'  mountain  which  bore  N.  42°  E.  from  here  he  named  Mount 
Rainier,  after  his  friend  Rear-Admiral  Rainier. 

The  expedition  was  continued  ;  but  the  weather  changed  materially,  and 
while  thus  detained  in  an  inlet  several  oak-trees  were  found  in  the  vicinity. 
In  consequence  of  this  valuable  discovery,  the  place  obtained  the  name  of  Oak 
Cove.  Leaving  the  cove,  a  high,  perpendicular,  blutf  point  which  divided  the 
inlet  into  two  branches  was  called  I'oulwcather  Bluff,  because  of  the  change  of 
weather.      The  western  arm  was  followed. 

Saturday,  May  12,  they  directed  their  course  back  to  Port  Discovery,  now 
sck'enty  miles  distant. 

Friday,  the  iSth,  both  ships  set  sail  to  explore  farther  the  two  branches 
of  the  inlet,  beginning  at  I'oulwc.ither  Bluii",  the  "Discovery"  taking  tlie 
eastern,  and  the  "  Chatham  "  the  other.  The  result  was  the  complete  e\|)lora- 
tion  of  Puget  .Sound,  so  called  because  of  Lieut.  Peter  Puget's  exertions. 

In  the  mean  time  Port  Orchard  and  V^^shon's  Islan  '  had  been  discovered 
and  so  named,  the  one  after  Mr.  Orchard,  a  gcntlen.  .;;  o\\  board,  the  other 
after  Captain  Vashon   of  the  navy,  a  friend  of  Vancouver. 


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iiteiwAwi 


269 


Restoration  Point  (lat.  47"  30',  long.  237°  46')  received  its  name  May  30, 
1792. 

Saturday,  June  2,  an  excellent  harbor  was  discovered,  and  named  Pcnn's 
Cove,  in  honor  of  a  particular  friend. 

A  fortnight  had  been  dedicated  to  the  examination  of  the  large  inlet,  the 
southern  extremity  of  which  had  been  called  Puget  Sound,  and  Saturday. 
June  2,  it  was  duly  distinguished  by  the  name  of  Ailmiralty  Inlet.  The 
country  in  the  vicinity  of  this  branch  of  the  sea  was  the  finest  they  had  yet  met 
witli,  notwithstanding  <^hc  pleasing  appearance  of  many  others. 

Sunday,  the  3d,  all  hands  were  given  a  day  of  needed  rest,  and  Monday 
being  the  anniversary  of  His  Majesty's  birth,  Vancouver  went  on  shore  and 
formally  took  possession  of  all  the  countries  north  of  39''  20'  north  latitude,  that 
he  had  explored,  in  the  name  of.  and  for,  His  Britannic  Majesty,  his  heirs  and 
successors.  The  entire  interior  sea  he  "  honored  with  the  name  of  the  Gulph 
of  Georgia,  and  the  continent  binding  the  said  gulph  and  extending  southward 
to  the  45th  degree  of  north  latitude,  with  that  of  Nev/  (k-orgia.  This  branch 
of  Admiralty  Inlet  obtained  the  name  of  Possession  Sound;  its  western  arm, 
after  Vice- Admiral  Sir  Alan  Gardner,  was  called  Port  Gardner,  and  its  smaller 
or  eastern  one  Port  Susan." 

Proceeding  up  Admiralty  Inlet,  its  north  point  (lat.  48''  16',  long.  237°  31') 
was  called  Point  Partridge,  and  its  west  point  (lat.  48"  10',  long.  237°  31'),  after 
his  esteemed  friend,  Capt.  (ieorge  Wilson,  of  the  navy,  he  distinguished  by  the 
name  of  Point  Wilson  (June  6). 

Sunday,  June  10,  it  was  discovered  that  the  eastern  shore  of  the  gulf, 
from  lat.  48°  27'  to  the  north  point  of  entrance  into  Possession  Sound,  in 
lat.  47°  53',  was  an  island,  in  its  broadest  part  about  ten  miles  across.  In 
consequence  of  Mr.  Whidbey's  circumnavigation  it  was  named  Whidbey's 
Island. 

June  13,  a  point  in  lat.  49°  19',  long.  237°  6',  was  named  Point  Grey,  in 
compliment  to  his  friend  Capt.  (ieorge  Grey,  of  the  navy. 

The  vessels  continued  their  route  northward,  occasionally  despatching  boats 
on  surveying  expeditions,  on  one  of  which  Mr.  Johnstone,  master  of  the 
"Chatham,"  discovered  a  passage  to  the  sea:  this,  July  13,  in  his  honor, 
received  the  name  of  Johnstone's  Straits. 

In  the  early  part  of  August  they  reached  and  passed  through  the  inlet 
which  Mr.  S.  Wedgborough  in  August,' J 786,  had  named  Queen  Charlotte's 
Sound. 

On  the  \!:^Y  every  mlet,  point,  and  island  received  a  name,  cither  suggested 
by  circumstances  or  given  in  honor  of  an  esteemed  friend. 


i 
I 

I   I 


if  I 


i.  Ji^  i 


270 


ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS  IN  THE   GREAT  NORTHWEST. 


STORY   OF  JUAN   DE   FUCA. 

But  there  is  another  celebration  of  an  event  that  may  well  claim 
the  attention  of  our  Pacific  friends,  —  the  discovery  of  the  Straits 
of  Juan  de  Fuca  by  the  Greek  pilot  of  that  name,  in    1592. 

Who  was  Juan  de  Fuca?  Was  there  indeed  ever  such  a  man,  or 
are  his  supposed  discoveries  the  dream  of  fiction  ? 

These  questions  have  been  discussed  over  and  over  by  Spain, 
England,  and   America,  for  the  last  two  hundred  years. 

Alexander  S.  Taylor,  in  an  article  in  Hutching's  California  Mag- 
azine entitled  "Memorials  of  Juan  de  Fuca,"  sets  the  question  at  rest 
by  publishing  the  following  letter  from  xJichael  Leek,  English  Consul 
to  Venice,   1 596  :  — 

"When  I  was  at  Venice,  in  April,  1596,  haply  arrived  there  an  ohl  man, 
about  sixty  years  of  age,  called  commonly  Juan  de  Fuca,  but  named  properly 
Apcjstolos  Valerianus,  of  nation  a  (ireek,  born  in  Cei>halonia,  of  profession  a 
mariner  and  an  ancient  pilot  of  ships.  This  man  being  come  lately  out  of 
Spain,  arriveil  first  at  Leghorn,  and  went  thence  to  I*"lorence,  where  he  found 
one  John  l)ouglas,  an  luiglishmun,  a  famous  mariner,  ready,  coming  for  Venice, 
to  be  pilot  for  a  Venetian  ship  ft  r  Fngland,  in  whoso  comi)any  they  came  both 
together  to  Venice,  And  John  Douglas  being  acquainted  with  me  before,  he 
gave  me  knowledge  of  this  (^ireek  pilot,  and  brought  him  to  my  speech,  and  in 
long  t.ilks  ;uh1  conference  between  us,  in  presence  of  John  Douglas,  this  Circek 
pilot  declared,  in  the  Italian  and  Spanish  languages,  thus  much  in  effect  as 
followeth  :  First,  he  said  that  he  had  been  in  the  West  Indies  of  S[)ain  forty 
years,  and  had  sailed  to  and  from  many  thereof,  in  the  service  of  the  .Spaniards. 
Also  he  said  that  he  was  in  the  Spanish  ship  which,  in  returning  from  the 
Islands  I'hillippinas,  toward  Nova  Spania.  was  robbed  and  taken  at  the  Cape 
California  by  Captain  Candish  [Cavendish],  F.nglishinan,  wherein-  he  lost  sixt\ 
thousand  ducats  of  his  own  goods.  .\lso  he  said  that  he  was  pilot  of  three 
small  ships  wliich  thi  Vicero\-  of  Mexico  sent  from  Mexico,  armed  with  one 
hundred  men,  under  a  captain,  Spaniards,  to  discover  the  Straits  of  Anian,  aK;ng 
the  coast  of  the  South  Sea,  and  to  ii-rtity  in  that  strait,  to  resist  the  passage 
and  proceedings  of  the-  English  nation,  which  were  feared  to  pass  through  those 
straits  into  the  South  Sea;  and  by  reason  of  a  mutiny  which  h  opened  among 


i:ailiiii!i!tiu!.*  jUii.Hiii.li  ^..iiifJu.:  '.i 


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16 


\ 


the  soldiers  for  the  misconduct  of  their  captain,  that  voyage  was  overthrown, 
and  the  ship  returned  from  California  to  Nova  Spania,  widiout  anything  done 
in  that  voyage;  and  that  after  their  return  the  captain  was  at  Mexico  punished 
l)y  justice, 

"  Also  he  said  that  shortly  after  the  said  voyage  was  so  ill  ended,  the  said 
Viceroy  of  Mexico  sent  him  out  again  in  1592,  with  a  small  caraval  and  a 
l)innace,  armed  with  mariners  only,  to  follow  the  said  vo^^age  for  the  discovery 
of  the  Straits  of  Annian,  and  the  passage  thereof  into  the  sea  which  they  call 
the  North  Sea,  all  along  the  coast  of  Nova  Spania,  and  California,  and  the 
Indies,  now  called  North  America  (all  which  voyage  he  signified  to  me  in  a 
great  map,  and  a  sea  card  of  my  own  which  I  laid  before  him)  until  he  came 
to  the  latitude  of  47  degrees;  and  that  there  finding  that  the  land  trended  north 
and  northeast,  with  a  broad  inlet  of  sea,  between  47  and  48  degrees  of  latitude, 
he  entered  thereinto,  sailing  therein  more  than  twenty  days,  and  finding  that 
land  trending  still  sometime  northwest  and  northeast  and  north,  and  also  east 
and  southeastward,  and  very  much  bro.ider  sea  than  was  at  the  said  entrance, 
and  that  he  passetl  by  divers  islands  in  that  sailing,  and  that  at  the  entrance 
of  this  said  strait  there  is  on  the  northwest  coast  thereof  a  great  headland  or 
island,  with  an  exceeding  high  pinnacle  or  spired  rock,  like  a  pillar,  thereupon. 

"  Also  he  said  that  he  went  on  land  in  divers  places,  and  that  he  saw  some 
people  on  land  clad  in  beasts'  skins;  and  that  the  land  is  very  fruitful,  and  rich 
of  gold,  silver,  pearls,  and  other  things,  like  Nova  Spania.  And  also  he  said 
that  he  being  entered  thus  far  into  the  said  strait,  and  being  come  into  the 
North  Sea  already,  and  finding  the  sea  wide  enough  everywhere,  and  to  be 
about  thirty  or  forty  leagues  wide  in  the  mouth  of  the  straits  where  he  entered, 
he  thought  he  had  now  well  discharged  his  office :  and  not  being  armed  to 
resist  the  force  of  the  savage  ijeonle  that  might  happen,  he  therefore  set  sail, 
amd  returned  homewards  again  towards  Nova  Spania,  where  he  arrived  at 
Acapulco,  anno  1592,  hoping  to  be  rewarded  by  the  Viceroy  for  this  service 
done  in  the  said  voyage.  .Mso  he  said  that  after  coming  to  Mexico  he  was 
greatly  welcomed  by  the  Viceroy,  and  had  promises  of  great  reward  ;  but  that, 
having  sued  there  two  years  and  obtained  nothing  to  his  content,  the  Viceroy 
told  him  that  he  should  be  rewarded  in  Spain,  of  the  King  himself,  very  greatly. 
.111(1  willed  him  therefore  to  go  to  S))ain,  which  voyage  he  did  perform.  Also 
in;  said  that  when  he  was  come  into  Spain,  he  was  welcomed  there  at  the  King's 
(Ourt;  but  after  a  long  suit  there,  also,  he  could  not  get  any  reward  there  to 
his  content,  and  therefore  at  length  he  stole  away  out  of  Spain,  and  came  into 
Italy,  to  go  home  again  and  live  among  his  own  kindred  and  countrymen,  he 
being  very  old.     Also  he  said  that  he  thought  the  cause  of  his  ill  reward  had 


\  i,; 


2  74 


yjG/.AG  JOURNEYS  IN  THE  GREAT  NORTH H'KST. 


of  the  .S[)aniard.s  to  be  for  that  they  did  understand  very  well  that  the  ICnglish 
Nation  had  now  given  over  all  their  voyages  for  discovery  of  the  northwest  pas- 
sage :  wherefore  they  need  not  fear  them  any  more  to  come  that  way  into  the 
South  Sea,  and  therefore  they  needed  not  his  service  therein  any  more.  Also 
he  said  that  understanding  that  the  noble  mind  of  the  Queen  of  England  [Queen 
Elizabeth]  and  of  her  wars  against  the  Spaniards,  and  hoping  that  her  Majesty 
would  do  him  justice  for  his  goods  lost  by  Captain  Candish,  he  would  be  con- 
tent to  go  into  England  and  serve  Her  Majesty  in  that  voyage  for  the  discovery 
perfectly  of  the  northwest  passage  into  the  South  Sea,  if  she  would  furnish  him 
with  only  one  ship  of  forty  tons  burden,  and  a  pinnace,  and  that  he  would  per- 
form it  in  thirty  days'  time  from  one  end  to  the  other  of  the  strait;  and  he  willed 
me  to  so  write  to  England.  And  upon  conference  had  twice  with  the  said 
Greek  pilot,  1  did  write  thereof  accordingly  to  England  unto  the  Right  honorable 
the  old  Lord  treasurer  Cecil,  and  to  Sir  Walter  Raleigh,  and  to  Master  Richard 
Hakluyt,  that  famous  cosmographer,  certifying  them  hereof.  And  1  prayed 
them  to  disburse  one  hundred  pounds  to  bring  the  said  Greek  pilot  into  ICng- 
land  with  myself,  for  that  my  own  purse  would  not  stretch  so  wide  at  that  time. 
And  I  had  answer  that  this  action  was  well  liked  and  greatly  desired  in  ICngland  ; 
but  the  money  was  not  ready,  and  therefore  this  action  died  at  that  time, 
thougii  the  said  Greek  pilot  pcfchance  liveth  still  in  his  own  country,  in  Ceplia- 
lonia,  towards  which  place  he  went  within  a  fortnight  after  this  conference  had 
at  Venice." 


BP 


CHAPTER  XI. 


'  ARTHUR  BURNS'S  RANCH. 

N  arriving  at  Vancouver,  our  tourists'  first  purpose  was 
to  visit  Arthur  Burns.  So  back  they  went  into  the 
region  of  the  beautiful  Cascade  Mountains,  over  the 
blue  Gulf  of  Georgia.  Helena  went  with  them,  and 
the  visiting  party  consisted  of  Mr.  Lette,  Charlie, 
and  Helena. 
The  landing:  nearest  to  the  ranch  was  a  low  shore  under  hiafh 
bluffs,  or  bluffs  that  seemed  high 
with  their  giant  firs.  Some  of 
these  trees  were  as  tall  as  Bun- 
ker Hill  Monument.  There 
was  but  one  house  at  the  place, 
a  log  hotel,  which  was  also 
a  post-office.  The  hotel  was 
chiefly  patronized  by  lumber- 
men and  fishermen. 

The  bluffs  were  matted  with 
vines,  and  were  full  of  red  whor- 
tleberries,—  a  delicious  fruit. 
Wild    morning-glories    flowered 

in  the  cool,  dewy  shadows,  and  strange  birds  flew  hither  and  thither 
wherever  a  footstep  went.  The  air  here  was  cool  and  vigorous,  and 
there  was  a  solitary  silence  everywhere.  ■ 


A  sktti-er's  hut, 


■  n  ! 


.lot  i] 

m  1 


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I' 


276 


ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS  IN  THE   GREAT  NURTHWEHT. 


The  steaiiicr  pulkcl  away  from  the  landing,  to  return  again  at 
nightfall.  i'hc  party  took  a  corduroy  road;  it  was  indeed  a  corde  du 
roi  road,  and  fit  for  a  king,  if  grand  arcades  of  ancient  trees  make  a 
kingly  way.  It  was  constructed  of  logs  laid  side  by  side,  and  inclined 
so  that  lumber  could  be  slid  down  to  the  Gulf. 

Up  this  silent  way  the  ]:)arty  hurried,  only  stopping  now  and  then 
to  pick  some  blackberries  or  red  whortleberries,  or  to  drink  from 
some  clear  water-spiing.     The  trees  grew  taller  anci  the  shadows  and 

silence  deeper.  At  times,  through 
some  opening,  a  silver  glacier  ap- 
peared far  away  in  the  Cascades, 
and  glistened  in  the  sun. 

They  came  to  a  waterfall  and 
rested.  The  stream  flowed  down- 
ward, and  from,  afar  one  could  hear 
its  music  in  the  distant  arcades  of 
firs.  At  this  waterfall  the  way  to 
the  ranch   became  a  trail. 

How   lovely,  solemn,  and   ma- 
jestic the  way  seemed  !     The  sun- 
light covered  the  interwoven  pine 
tops  like  a  tent.     Crows  flew  cawing  away  —  and  jays. 

They  at  last  came  upon  a  little  black  bear,  which  scampered  off  in 
the  greatest  alarm.  These  bears  are  quite  harmless  unless  attacked, 
and  are  more  afraid  of  a  settler  than  the  settler  is  of  them. 

Suddenly  they  found  themselves  at  a  little  Swedish  log  cabin  in 
a  clearing.  The  settlers  came  out  to  meet  them,  and  brought  them 
v.'ater  and  berries.  They  were  evidently  honest  people,  of  good  hearts 
and  fair  intelligence.     They  had  cleared  a  large  garden  by  burning. 

Soon  they  came  to  other  clearings  and  cabins.  The  people  here 
were  hard  at  work  burning  land  for  gardens  and  grain.  Then  they 
passed  a  lake  or  pond  out  of  which  flew  a  flock  of  ducks,  and  which 


A   FRONTIEK    HOUSE. 


//  A'  / 11 L  R  B CAWS' S  A".  / .  \  c  //. 


'■77 


is  covered  with  wild  geese  in  tlie  fall.     Then  they  saw  some  deer,  which 
are    very   numerous,   then   an   old    Indian    squaw    who  appeared   very 


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THE   GREAT    BLUFF,  THOMPSON    RIVFR. 

friendly  ;  and  at  last  they  stood  before 

a  little  cabin  of  logs  and  splints,  and 

beheld  a  handsome  young  man  in  scanty 

clothing  standing  in  the  door. 

"  This  is  the  place,"  said  Mr.  Lette,  "  and  there  he  is." 
The  young  man  at  first  die!  not  recognize  the  party. 


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ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS  IN  THE   GREAT  NORTHWEST. 


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"  Hurrah  for  the  Hotel  de  Batteau  !  "  said  Mr.  Lette. 

Arthur  leaped  over  the  ground  to  meet  them.  "Hurrah  it  is!" 
said  he.  "  That's  just  what  I  have  called  my  place, — the  Hotel  de 
Batteau.  There  it  is,  one  room.  You  are  good  to  come  to  see  me. 
I  shall  never  forget  this.     Come  in.     This  is   Wilhelmine." 

A  fresh,  honest-looking  Swedish  girl,  with  blue  eyes  and  broad 
face,  came  to  the  door.  She  spoke  English  imperfectly.  The  furni- 
ture consisted  of  a  small  sheet-iron  stove,  and  some  boxes  that  Wil- 
helmine had  covered  with  cushions,  and  a  bed  made  of  pine  logs  and 
pine  needles  and  blankets.  There  was  no  glass  window,  only  a 
wooden  slide.  The  cupboard  of  the  Hotel  de  Batteau  contained 
three  plates,  and  as  many  cnps  and  saucers,  a  pitcher,  some  bowls  and 
spoons,  and  some  knives  and  forks. 

Wilhelmine  was  cooking  some  salmon  for  dinner. 

Our  guests  looked  around.  They  were  evidently  of  the  opinion 
that  they  would  not  be  expected  to  dine  at  the  Hotel  de  Batteau. 

"  We  have  only  a  couple  of  hours  to  stay,"  said  Mr.  Lette.  "  Tell 
us  all  about  your  life."  . 

"Yes,"  said  Charlie.     "  Are  you  happy  here  ?  " 

"  I  am,"  answered  Arthur.     "  Ask  Wilhelmine." 

"  Very  —  beautiful  —  health  —  enough  to  eat  —  everything^''  said 
the  bride  of  the  Hotel  de   Batteau,  Wilhelmine. 

"But,  Arthur,"  Said  Charlie,  "how  do  you  expect  to  live.?  Your 
money  must  be  already  spent."  :• 

"  I  am  going  to  work  in  the  lumber-mill  a  few  miles  from  here 
on  the  Gulf  for  a  year,  and  spend  what  I  earn  on  my  place,"  said 
Arthur. 

"  Won't  Wilhelmine  be  lonely  ?"  '       • 

"  She  is  going  to  work  in  New  Westminster  a  part  of  the  time, 
and  spend  what  she  earns  in  furnishing  a  house  which  we  hope  to 
build  in  the  fall.  Winter  does  not  come  until  late  here,  and  is  short, 
and  consists  of  a  season  of  rainy  nights.     So  I  am  told." 


smm 


miiakBhtti±sii^ 


wmmtfmmmwr-'y 


wmmmsmmmmmn 


ARTHUR  BC/RA'S'S  RANCH. 


J  79 


Tell 


"  But  do  you  have  to  bring  your  provisions  up  here  on  vour  back  ?  " 
asked  Charlie. 

"  Yes,  what  we  have.  The  woods  are  full  of  game,  so  that  we 
shall  not  require  to  buy  any  meat.  Fish  is  plentiful,  so  we  will  not 
need  to  buy  any.     We   can    obtain    wheat   (lour  from  a  ranch  on  a 


THE   PEACK    RIVER. 


little  prairie  a  few  miles  from  here ;  and  so  I  think  we  can  live  if  we 
have  health." 

"  But  are  you  not  very  lonely?" 

"  No ;  we  live  in  the  future.  It  is  our  happiness  to  look  forward, 
to  plan  and  hope.  The  imagination  is  the  same  here  as  in  London, 
and  most  people  derive  their  happiness  from  their  imagination.  We 
love  each  other ;  we  expect  to  work,  and  to  have  a  fine  ranch  some 
day,  and  we  own  ourselves,  which  is  more  than  half  the  people  of 
London  do;    and  we  are  very  happy." 

"  How  will  you  clear  your  land  .'' " 


i    11 


fi 


mmm 


280 


ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS  IN  THE   GREAT  NORTHWEST. 


"  A  part  of  it  is  prairie  land.  This  I  shall  put  into  grain  when  I 
am  able.  The  wooded  part  is  very  ricli  soil.  I  shall  burn  a  place  for 
a  garden  and  a  prune-orchard.      The  province  will  run  a  road  through 

have  a  school-house. 


this  section  soon,  and  we  sha 
The  Swedish    settlers  are  a 
we  will   build  a  log  church, 
a  good  voice,  and  will  sing  . 
will   have  a  large  ranch  for 
day,  and  all  our  own. 
I    feel    that    1    have  i 


religious    people,    .so 
and  Wilhelmine  has 
in    the    choir.      We 
poor      people     some 
I   am    glad    I    came, 
something  to  live  for 
now.     I  expect  hard- 
ship, but    I   also  ex- 
pect independence  in 
the  end,  —  a  home  of 
mv  own  ;  and  I  shall 
be     happy     in      the 
growth  of  the  coun- 
try.    Yes,    my   good 
friends,   I  am  glad    I 
came,    and    I    thank 
you  for  all  your   helps.     I  wish 
I   could    offer  you   a  good   dinner 
at  the  Hotel  de  Batteau,  but  I  can- 
not.   Come  here  again  in  ten  years, 
and  I  will  give  you  one  that  will   surpass  any  in 
the    Charing   Cross   Hotel  or  the   London  club- 
houses.    Let  me  bring  you  some  water  from  the 
brook.     The  brook  reminds  me  of  the  story  of 
the  old  Hotel  de   Batteau." 

Arthur  brought  some  water  from  the  running  brook. 
"  This  came  down  from  the  snows  of  the  Cascades,"  said  he.    "  See 
how  honest  and  sparkling  it  looks  !     Try  it!  " 


A  CARIHOO  WAGON-ROAD. 


w  M^aBipqffimw«i<*''4fl!g«  jMiiiMwii 


U^^UESUM.:. 


t! 


ARTHUR  BURNS'S  RANCH. 


281 


the 


coun- 
goocl 


See 


"  Health  !  "  said  Mr.  Lette. 

"  Health  1 ''  said  Charlie, 

"Health!"  said  the  Montana  girl.  "I  am  sure  that  you  will 
succeed." 

Arthur  was  asked  what  he  had  for  amusements. 

"  A  man  should  take  his  enjoyments  in  his  work,"  said  Arthur, 
"  But  in  the  evening,  when  Wilhelmine  and  I  have  talked  over  the 
events  of  the  day,    I  get  her  to  sing  to  me." 

"  Will  you  not  sing  a  song  to  us  ?  "  asked  Helena  of  the  happy 
bride. 

"  If  you  wish  it,  I  will  try,"  said  Wilhelmine.  "  Let  us  go  out  of 
doors." 

They  went  out  through  the  door  of  the  little  cabin,  and  sat  down 
on  the  long  log  of  Douglas  fir.  The  cool  shadows  of  the  tent-like  tree- 
tops  fell  across  the  log,  and  afar  gleamed  the  crystal  crown  of  the 
Cascades  in  the  sun.  - 

Wilhelmine  had  a  beautiful  voice,  pure  and  clear,  and  she  sang  a 
popular  Swedish  love-song,  —  one  that  Christine  Nilsson  once  sang 
to  delighted  ears  in  Boston  Music  Hall,  — "  When  I  was  sweet 
seventeen." 

How  strange  it  seemed, — this  airy,  rippling  song  of  the  land  of 
Gustavus  Adolphus,  in  the  American  wilderness  !  A  good  song  wins 
the  heart ;  and  our  tourists  went  away,  to  carry  in  their  memory  the 
tenderest  ijood  wishes  for  brave  Wilhelmine. 

On  the  return  to  Vancouver  the  boat  passed  through  a  little  fleet 
of  long  canoes  filled  with  Indian  families.  These  Indians  were 
coming  down  from  the  North  to  pick  hops  in  the  Pugallup  valley. 
Few  things  in  America  are  more  truly  poetic  and  romantic  than  the 
hop-picking  festival,  for  a  gay  festival  it  really  is  in  this  beautiful 
valley  of  Puget  Sound.  The  glorious  season,  the  gleaming  moun- 
tains, the  picturesque  hop-farms,  the  Indians  from  many  tribes,  the 
night  songs  and  dances,  the  plays,  the  torches,  the  gayety  and  good- 


m 


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282 


ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS  IN  THE  GREAT  NORTHWEST. 


humor,  the  full  moon,  the  great  excursions,  all  combine   to  make  the 
season  wonderfully  ideal  and  romantic. 

It  was  twilight  as  the  boat  dipped  down  the  Gulf,  —  one  of  the 
long  northern  twilights  of  the  inland  waters,  calm  as  a  sea  of  peace, 
and  splendid  as  a  vision  of  celestial  glory.     The    gold-crimson  light 


'  AMONG   THE   ISLANDS   OF   THK   (ail,!"   OF   GEORGIA. 

burned  through  the  tall  firs  like  the  sunset  in  the  oriel  windows  of 
old  cathedrals.  The  Indians  sang,  and  long  flocks  of  birds  like  gray 
clouds  floated  amid  the  white-blue  light  of  the  sky  that  bordered  the 
red  sea-fires  of  the  west. 

"  I  should  think,"  said  Chai  lie  to  Mr.  Lette,  "  that  emigrants  would 
come  here  and  find  the  country  and  climate  all  that  had  been  repre- 
sented, hut  yet  not  be  able  to  gain  employment,  and  so  suffer  and 
become  discouraged.     A  man  cannot  live  on  grand  scenery." 


Ti"-^     "~1 -'-^ 


■wsmsaw 


«44^Ilft  Vjr  ' . 


the 


ARTHUR  BURNS:S  RANCH. 


2S3 


J' 


*'  I  think,"  said  Mr.  Lette,  "that  the  emigrant  ought  to  have  some 
five  hundred  dollars,  with  which  to  begin  life  in  this  new  country. 
But  the  lumber-camps,  the  coal-mines,  the  small  mining  interests 
everywhere,  the  necessity  for  building  and  improvement  on  the  part 
of  capitalists,  offer  a  large  field  for  profitable  labor;  and  if  a  person 
comes  here  with  a  spirit  like  Arthur's,  with  a  resolution  of  success, 
and  willingness  to  work,  the  chances  are  as  a  hundred  to  one  that 
he  will  become  a  successful  man." 


,fcfe,V,;.A 


would 


THE   CHINOOKER. 

In  British  Columbia  and  Washington  the  people  hc.,e  one  common  name, 
the  Chinookers.  The  mellow  climate  here  is  the  gift  of  the  Chinook  winds. 
Everything  old  and  noble  bears  the  same  nickname,  ^ — a  five-hundred-years-old 
tree,  a  grave  Indian,  and  in  one  instance  it  was  applied  to  a  very  troublesome 
bear. 

An  English  mining-camp  in  the  Selkirks  had  been  twice  alarmed  by  the 
appearance  on  its  border  of  a  too  familiar  bruin.  To  this  camp  came  an  Eng- 
lish speculator  and  some  sportsmen.  The  speculator  heard  the  report  of  the 
visits  of  the  bear,  and  thought  it  might  be  an  interesting  investigation  to  return 
them.     This   bear  had  received  the  name  of  the  old  Chinooker. 

One  evening  before  a  late  supper  the  speculator,  being  weary  of  the  mo- 
notony of  tlie  camp,  said  that  he  was  going  out  for  a  walk. 

"Where  be  you  going,  massa?"  asked  a  negro  cook. 

"  To  call  on  the  old  Chinooker." 

"Don't  bring  him  home  with  you,  massa,"  said  the  negro,  who  had  hardly 
dared  sleep  for  a  week  for  fear  of  the  bear. 

The  Englishman  was  gone  until  the  dark  shadows  fell,  and  the  camp-fire  lit 
up  the  valley.  The  sportsmen  were  resting,  and  the  negro  was  idly  busy 
in  keening  the  coffee  warm. 

"Where  is  our  gouty  friend?"  asked  one  of  the  sportsmen. 

"  Gone  to  call  on  the  bear." 

"  Finds  his  new  friend  entertaining,"  said  the  other.  "  Mile  [to  the  negro], 
blow  the  horn." 

Milo  blew  a  blast  that  shook  the  hills.     There  was  no  response. 

The  stars  began  to  come  out. 

"  Blow  again,  Milo,"  said  the  sportsman. 


'\  ■ 


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u 


% 


\ 


284 


ZIGZAG   JOURXEYS  IN   THE   GREAT  NORTHWEST. 


Milo  blew  the  piercing  horn  again.  -. 

There  was  a  stirring  of  underbrush  at  the  fringe  of  the  clearing.  The 
hunters  started  up  and  seized  their  guns.  The  negro  awaited  with  curious  eyes 
the  development  of  the  mystery. 

Suddenly  the  fat  speculator's  form  appeared,  flying  toward  the  camp  like 
a  boy.  In  a  moment  after,  the  bear  appeared.  The  two  seemed  to  be  running 
a  race. 

"Fire,  fire!  "  cried  the  negro;  "the  bear  am  after  him!  Kill  him,  quick! 
There  's  no  need  of  his  catching  bofh  of  71s  .'  " 

By  "  bofh  of  us  "  Mile  meant  the  doughty  knight  of  the  mines  and  his 
precious  self      Me  knew  the  value  of  the  cook  who  made  the  coffee. 

The  speculator  ran.  His  hat  was  gone,  and  his  short  legs  made  up  in 
activity  what  they  lacked  in  length.  He  was  in  a  terrible  state  of  excitement 
until  he  came  surely  under  the  cover  of  the  guns ;  then  his  face  assumed  a 
most  delighted  expression. 

"  You   blew  horn   for  me,"  said  he.     "  That  was  right.     Me  and  the  bar 's 


commg. 


But  poor  bruin  had  a  very  inhospitable  welcome,  and  found  a  place  in 
Milo's  dinner-pot  for  several  days  afterward.  The  negro  never  recovered  from 
his  fright  on  that  evening,  but  was  anxious  to  go  "down  So  if"  regain;  and  the 
speculator  himself  made  no  more  evening  calls  in  the  ter  itories  of  an  old 
Chinooker.  , 

VANCOUVER    ISLAND. 

The  Island  of  Vancouver  seems  destined  to  become  a  very  impor- 
tant factor  in  the  future,  as  one  or  more  of  the  great  ports  to  Asia, 
more  especially  to  China  and  Japan,  will  be  here.  England  will  find 
from  this  island  a  short  ferriage  to  Asia,  as  America  finds  her  short 
ferriage  to  England  and  Europe  by  the  way  of  Quebec,  the  St.  Law- 
rence, and  the  Straits  of  Belle  Isle  or  Cape  Race.  The  ships  with 
tea  for  Canada  will  follow  the  Japanese  Current,  as  will  the  ships  of 
fabrics  from  Japan.  The  Island  of  Vancouver  is  about  to  wed  the 
islands  of  the  Flowery  Sea. 

Bounded  on  the  west  by  the  Pacific  Ocean  and  on  the  east  by  the 
Straits   of   Georgia,  warmed   in   winter   by  the  Chinook   winds    and 


h 


III 


:-li 


:i^i*i 


ARTHUR  BURNS' S  RANCH. 


>87 


currents,  having  a  climate  of  almost  continuous  springtime,  over- 
looked by  lofty  mountains,  an!  connecting  by  sheltered  water-ways 
with  the  ports  of  Alaska,  Vancouver  has  probably  an  eventful  and 
historic  part  to  enact  in  the  re-mapping  of  the  world,  and  such  as  is 
likely    to    surpass    that    already   enacted   by  the   maritime  provinces. 


'■^ 


A   VINEYARD  IN   BRITISH   COLUMBIA. 

The   cities    here    are    likely   to  become  larger 

and  more  important  than  Montreal  or  Quebec. 

In   case   of    international    differences   it  would 

jirobably    become    a    place    of    fortresses    and 

navies.     It    is    an    island  which   England  and 

the   Dominion  of  Canada  will  some  day  regard  with  especial  pride. 

It  is  two  hundred  and  seventy  miles  in  length,  and  some  forty  miles 

in  breadth,  and  has  an  area  of  about  sixteen  thousand  square  miles. 

The  outline  of  the  islard  is  especially  picturesque.  Here  the 
buttress-like  walls  of  Mount  Arrowsmith  descend  for  thousands  of 
feet  almost  abruptly  to   the  shore.     The  shores  have  fiord-like  arms 


288 


ZIGZAG  JOUKNFVS  IN  THE  GREAT  NORTHWEST. 


and  sheltered  harbors.  Afar  are  seen  the 
|j;laciers  of  the  Olympian  Mountains,  in 
the  State  of  Washington. 

Here  the  atmospheres  are  bright  and 
the  summers  cool,  and  the  mind  is  always 
impressed  with  the  grandeur  of  mountains 
and  seas. 

Victoria  is  the  beautiful  cajMtal. 
It  stands  at  the  southeast  extremity 
of   the    island,  and    has  a  very  pic- 
turesque  and    intricate    harbor.     It 
is  a  free  jjort. 

The  city  is  famous  for  its  S'  m- 
ery,  parks,  elegant  suburbs, 
and  conservative  English 
society.  It  is  wholly  un- 
like the  progressive  city  of 
Vancouver. 

English  families  of 
wealth  and  social  position 
like  it,  and  many  such  make 
it  their  provincial  place  of 
residence.  It  exerts  a  fas- 
cination over  lovers  of 
romance,  poetry  and  art, 
and  elegant  seclusion. 
Vancouver  says  to  the 
world,  "  Come  !  "  delight- 
ing in  growth  and  expan- 
sion. Victoria  is  more 
given  to  the  traditions  of 
the  past.     She  is  like  an  English   seaport  city. 


INDIAN  SALMON  CACHE. 


ARl'HUR  liURNS'S  JiAACJI. 


289 


\ 


4^- 


■  ^■^ 


The  trees  of  Vancouver 
are  giants.  Some  of  the 
Doufjlas  firs  are  three 
hundred  feet  in  height, 
and  the  stumps  are  large 
enough  for  houses,  for 
v^'hich    purpose  holl    M' 


INDIAN   GRAV?:S. 


ones  have  been  used.  The  Indians  here  are  a  very  interesting 
people.  The  traveller  is  struck  with  their  salmon  caches  along  the 
shores,  and  with  effigies  that   mark  their  houses  and  graves.     These 

19 


I 


i.  I 

1    !' 


'  li 


290 


ZIGZAG   JOURNEYS  IN  THE   GREAT  NORTHWEST. 


salmon  caches  are  a  kind  of  basket  hung  in  trees  or  placed  upon  the 
high  branches.  Their  purpose  is  to  secure  the  fish  from  animals 
and  birds,  and  to  keep  it  sweet  in  the  clear,  pure   air. 

The  carvings  of  the  Vancouver  Indians  are  quite  skilful.  They 
ornament  the  houses,  and  arc  used  as  a  kind  of  family  record. 
Many  families  have  peculiar  carvings  which  answer  the  purpose  of  a 
coat-of-arms. 

The  graves  at  a  distance  remind  one  of  a  house  with  the,  family 
grouped  outside.  The  utensils  used  by  the  warriors  are  buried  with 
them  or  placed  on  the  outside  of  their  tombs. 

Vancouver  was  discovered  by  Juan  de  Fuca  in  1592.  Captain 
Cook  visited  it  in  1778,  and  Vancouver  in  1792.  It  was  taken  into 
the  charge  of  the  Hudson  Bay  Company  in  1849,  and  became  a  part 
of  the  Dominion  of  Canada  in  187 1.  It  has  made  a  most  wonderful 
development   during  the  last  twenty  years. 

Wonderful  also  is  the  town  of  Nanaimo,  the  port  of  the  coal- 
trade.  Here,  or  near  to  the  town,  are  some  of  the  richest  coal-mines 
on  the  continent.  Many  of  the  miners  are  Scotch,  and  the  habits 
and  customs  of  Scotland  prevail  here. 

Near  Victoria  ia  the  beautiful  and  calm  harbor  of  Esquimalt, 
the  winter  station  of  Pacific  vessels.  The  mountain  scenery  through 
the  water-ways  here  is  very  inspiring.  The  ofificers  of  the  English 
navy  are  as  a  rule  very  contented  and  happy  here,  in  a  climate 
where  roses  and  laurestinus  may  be  found  in  the  gardens  on  the 
shore  on  Christmas   Day.  . 

Strange  scenes  may  be  found  on  Vancouver,  like  the  Buffalo 
Dance  of  the  Indians.  In  this  dance  the  revellers  wear  buffalo 
heads  for  masques.  But  stranger  than  the  Buffalo  Dance,  or  the 
Wapiti's  horns,  or  Potlatch  masques,  found  in  the  stores  in  Victoria, 
are  colonies  of  seals  that  come  and  go,  and  seem  almost  numan  in 
their  loves  and  jealousies.  It  is  said  that  St.  Paul's  Island  has  an 
annual  population  of  over  three  hundred  million  seals. 


ARTHUR  BURNS'S  RANCH. 


291 


Mr.  Elliott,  who  furnished  to  the  United  States  government  an 
account  of  the  mode  of  the  capture  of  the  seals  on  the  islands 
of  the  Vancouver  group,  says :  — 


1 

V' 

VIEW    FROM   KSQUIMALT. 
♦ 

"The  full-grown  male  is  from  6J  to  7J  feet  lon^,  and  weighs  four  hundred 
pounds.  The  old  bulls  will  maintain  their  chosen  position  on  the  shore 
among  the  countless  herds.  A  constantly  sustained  fight  between  new- 
comers and  the  first  arrivals  goes  on  incessantly.  A  well-understood  prin- 
ciple seems  to  exist  among  them,  that  each  shall  remain  on  a  special  spot, 
usually  about  eight  feet  square,  provided  that  at  the  start,  and  from  the 
first  coming  until  the  advent  of  the  females,  he  is  strong  enough  to  hold 
the  ground  against  all  comers,  as  the  crowding  of  the  fresh  arrivals  often 
<:auses  the  removal  of  those  who,  though  equally  able-bodied  at  first,  have 
tecome   weak  by  constant  fighting.     They  are  finally  driven   by  fresher  ani- 


r 


i! 

\\ 
V- 


^\ 


("is-,*..       V-    -... 


j  'I    ' 
'Hi 


292 


ZIGZAG  JOUIiNEVS  IN  THE   GREAT  NORTHWEST. 


ti   I,  *!• 


m\ 


"M 


mals  higher  up  in  the  rookery,  and  sometimes  off  altogether.  Many  of 
the  bulls  exhibit  wonderful  strength  and  desperate  courage.  I  remarked 
one  veteran  who  was  the  first  to  lake  up  his  position  early  in  May,  and 
that  position,  as  usual,  directly  at  the  water  line.  This  seal  had  fought 
at  least  forty  or  fifty  desperate  battles,  and  fought  off  his  ris  ailants  every 
time,  and  when  the  fighting  season  was  over  I  saw  him  still  there,  covered 
with  scars  and  frightfully  gashed,  raw,  festering,  and  bloody,  one  eye  gouged 
out,  but  lording  it  bravely  over  his  harem,  who  were  all  huddled  together 
around  him. 

"  The  young  seal  is  from  the  moment  of  his  birth  until  he  is  a  month 
or  six  weeks  old  unable  to  swim.  If  he  is  seized  by  the  nape  of  the 
neck  and  pitched  out  a  rod  into  the  water  from  shore,  liis  bullet-like  head 
will  drop  instantly  below  the  surface,  and  his  attenuated  posterior  extremi- 
ties flap  impotently  on  it;  suffocation  is  a  question  of  only  a  few  minutes, 
—  the  stupid  little  creature  not  knowing  how  to  raise  his  immersed  head. 
After  the  age  of  a  month  or  six  weeks  their  instinct  drives  them  down 
to  the  margin  of  the  surf,  where  the  ebb  and  flow  of  the  waves  covers 
and  uncovers  the  rocky  beaches.  They  first  smell  and  then  touch  the 
moist  pools,  and  flounder  in  the  upper  wash  of  the  surf.  After  this  begin- 
ning they  make  slow  and  clumsy  progress  in  learning  the  knack  of  swim- 
ming. For  a  week  or  two  they  thrash  the  water  as  little  dogs  do,  with 
their  fore  feet,  making  no  attempt  whatever  to  use  the  hinder  ones.  Look 
at  that  pup  launched  for  the  first  time  beyond  his  depth;  see,  how  he 
struggles,  —  his  mouth  wide  open  and  eyes  staring.  He  turns  to  the  beach; 
the  receding  swell  which  had  taken  him  out  returns  and  leaves  him  high 
and  dry.  For  a  few  minutes  he  seems  so  weary  that  he  weakly  crawls 
up  out  beyond  the  swift-returning  wash,  and  coils  himself  up  for  a  recu- 
perative nap.  He  sleeps  perhaps  half  an  hour,  then  awakes  '  as  bright  as 
a  dollar,'  and  to  his  swimming  lesson  he  goes  again.  Once  boldly  swimming, 
the  pup  fairly  revels  in  his  new  happiness. 

''The  fur  seals  after  leaving  the  islands  in  the  autumn  and  early  winter 
do  not  visit  land  again  until  their  return  in  the  spring  or  early  summcr 
to  the  same  '  rookery '  grounds.  They  leave  the  islands-  in  independent 
squads;  apparently  all  turn  by  common  consent  toward  the  south,  dis- 
appearing toward  the  horizon,  and  are  soon  lost  in  the  expanse,  where 
they  spread  themselves  over  the  entire  North  Pacific  as  far  south  as  the  forty- 
eighth  and  even  forty-seventh  parallels  of  north  latitude.  Over  the  immense 
area  between  Oregon  and  Japan  doubtless  many  extensive  submarine  fishing 
shoals   and    banks    are   known   to    them;    at   least  it  is  definitely    understood 


ARTHUR  BURiXS'S  RANCH. 


293 


that  Behring's  Sea  does  not  contain  them  long  when  they  depart  from 
the  breeding-places.  While  it  is  remembered  that  they  sleep  soundly  and 
with  the  greatest  comfort  on  the  surface  of  the  water,  and  that  even  when 
on  land  in  summer  they  frequently  put  off  from  the  beaches  to  take  a 
bath  and  a  quiet  snooze  just  beyond  the  surf,  we  can  readily  agree  that 
it  is  no  inconvenience  whatever,  when  their  coats  have  been  renewed,  to 
stay  the  balance  of  the  time  in  their  most  congenial  element,  the  deep. 

"  The   seals   are  driven  slowly  to  the  slaughter.     Men  get  between  them 
and    the   water,  and    the   poor   beasts   turn,  hop,  and  scramble    up  over    the 


!  '  ■,  ■ 


t*":""'^.  =  . 


'M) _ 


7^''^^»m;&e^ 


*<^, 


SEAL-DRIVING. 


land.     The  natives  then  leisurely  walk  in 

the  flank  and  rear  of  the  drove  thus  secured,  directing  and  driving  it  to 
the  killing-grounds.  An  old  bull  seal,  fat  and  unwieldy,  cannot  travel 
with  the  younger  ones,  though  it  can  go  as  fast  as  a  man  can  run  for  one 
hundred  yards,  but  then  fails  utterly,  and  falls  to  the  ground  entirely  exhausted, 
hot,  and  gasping  for  breath." 


The  aborigiml  inhabitants  of  Vancouver  bardly  interest  the  trav- 
eller more  than  the  Celestials.  Directly  across  the  Pacific  lies  China, 
with  three  hundred  and  sixty  million  inhabitants,  as  we  have  stated  ; 
and  England  has  made  it  easy  for  treaties  with  this  great  empire  by 
protecting  the  Chinese  in  her  American  colonies.  A  happy,  clean- 
looking,  well-dressed  people  they  are,  as  one  finds  them  in  Vancouver 
and  Victoria.     At   Vancouver  they  have  built  a  church,  where  they 


id 
m 


'  ".; 


f! 


294 


Z/GZAG  JOURNEY'S  IN   THE  GREAT  NORTHWEST. 


have  preaching  in  their  own  tongue.  Very  grateful  are  they  to  the 
American  and  English  teachers  who  instruct  them.  In  one  instance 
a  lady  by  the  name  of  Monk  who  had  instructed  them  moved  away 
from  Vancouver  to  Montreal.  Her  work  had  been  conscientious  and 
sympathetic,  and  they  wished  to  bring  her  back  again.  They  raised 
the  money  to  do  so,  and  made  her  a  present  on  her  return.  They 
are  eager  scholars,  bright,  quick,  and  active. 

The  Swedish  population  of  the 
new  country,  both  in  the  provinces 
and  States,  sustains  the  traditional 
history  of  the  men  of  the  North. 
One  finds  the  Swedish  farmer 
everywhere.  He  is  an  American 
as  soon  as  he  lands.  True  to  his 
historv  and  the  traditions  of  his 
race,  he  yet  comes  to  America  to 
be  an  American.  He  loves  reli- 
gion and  liberty.  The  new  coun- 
try is  like  a  Paradise  to  him. 

The  Roman  Catholics  have  fine 
churches  and  institutions  every- 
where. One  is  surprised  at  the 
costliness  and  solidity  of  their 
buildings.  Nowhere  has  the  Meth- 
odist Church  finer  buildings  than  in  Canada,  and  the  Methodist 
Church  in  Vancouver  would  do  credit  to  any  city. 

In  these  new  cities  the  noble  structure  of  the  schoolhouse  lifts 
its  towers  among  the  steeples.  Education  here  is  to  do  her  noblest 
work.  The  provinces  and  States  of  the  Northwest  are  all  rich  in 
school-funds  and  provisions  for  education.  California  is  making 
herself  famous  for  the  building  of  great  colleges  and  institutions  of 
learning.     The  great  telescope  of  the  world  is  there.     One  University 


,"  ■•'* 


THE   WAPITI. 


r" 


ARTHUR  nURNS'S  RAACH. 


295 


starts  with  a  building  and  endowment  fund  of  some  twenty  million 
dollars.  The  same  educational  spirit  prevails  in  the  empire  on  the 
Puget  Sound.  Harvard  College  will  one  day  be  small  in  architectural 
comparison    with    the   educational    structures    that  will    arise   on   the 


ON   THE   COAST   OF    BRITISH   COLUMI'.IA. 


northern  shores  of  the  Pacific,  if  the  dreams  and  plans  of  the  rich 
founders  of  the  new  cities  arc  realized. 

Mount  Baker  is  the  glory  of  the  North.  It  is  seen  almost  every- 
where in  the  upper  Puget  Sound  country,  gleaming  like  a  dome 
over  the  water-ways.  Wherever  one  climbs  a  hill,  the  white-mantled 
mountain  greets  him  like  a  bishop  of  the  skies.  Serene  in  the 
metallic  blue  of  the  wide  heavens,  its  dome  burns  in  the  meridian 
hours,  and  turns  into  roses  in  the  melting  skies  of  the  sunset.  Dis- 
tance lends  it  poetry,  but  nearness  in  moonlight  makes  It  wonderfully 


( 


,') 


U'fi 


2gb 


ZIGZAG  JOUJiA'EVS  IN  THE   GREAT  NORTHWEST. 


beautiful,  like  the  Taj,  or  the  Capitol  at  Washington,  —  if  such  small 
structures  may  suggest  a  comparison. 

There  is  a  solitary  grandeur  in  the  high  mountains  that  overlook 
the  Fraser,  the  Columbia,  and   Puget  Sound.     Most  of  these  frozen 


SEYMOUR  NARROWS,  CANADIAN    PACIFIC 
COAST, 

domes  are  twice  as  hio-h  as 
Mount  Washington  in  the 
East,  and  they  once  blazed 
with  fire  as  they  now  glimmer 
in  everlasting  ice.  They  were  chimneys  of  gigantic  furnaces  that  have 
long  ceased  to  burn.  One  dreams  of  the  past  on  beholding  them, 
and  imagines  the  time  when  the  heavens  rained  fire.  Giant  forests 
are  now  rooted  in  soil  that  once  was  ashes.  There  are  traditions  that 
Mount  Hood  and  Mount  Su  Helen's  have  been  seen  to  glow  and  blaze 
in  the  night  like  ghosts  of  the  age  of  Carbon,  but  we  do  not  know 
that  these  tales  arc  true.  An  attempt  has  been  made  to  illumine 
Mount  Hood  and  Tacoma  on  the  evenings  of  Independence  days,  and 
to  produce  the  effect  of  artificial  volcanoes;  but  the  scheme  has 
proved  grander  than  its  success.     The   illumination  of  these   moun- 


.,   „^ 


lall 


i  •] 


ROADWAY    IN'    liUITiSIl    COI-UMUIA. 


''Wi.A*'—       ■  7^^' 


m 


(tjj,-T  •■•9W,    *",    /1>4,    ,.^ 


''^|,^  iim^ppnyini  iHj  im;^y*>f3^j?-T»f  j  7^  ^^HfPgi|  Ti7^^ 


ARTHUR  BURNS'S  RAi\CH. 


299 


tains  at  night  by  means  of  electricity  may  become  a  feature  of  future 
national  holidays. 

The  iMarquis  of  Lome  says  that  British  Columbia  is  by  far  the 
most  beautiful  of  the  Canadian  provinces.  It  certainly  is  the  most 
beautiful  province  in  North  America;  but  it  shares  its  wonderful 
beauty  and  resources  with  Washington,  which  surely  is  the  most 
beautiful  of  all  the  Union  of  American  States. 


i!  ;-, 


'•;''**ii»»w.--  ■■•^ 


mmmm 


wmm^ 


I, 


I 


[1 , 


I  :  I 


CHAPTER   XII. 

THE  NEW  STAR  ON  THE  FLAG. 

ASHING  TON  is  the  land  of  young  men.  It  is  the 
young  mind  that  is  devcloj)ing  her,  governing  her,  and 
guiding  her.  New  York  may  be  proud  of  her  com- 
merce, Pennsylvania  of  her  mines  of  iron  and  coal, 
Illinois  of  the  mountains  of  grain  that  fill  her  elevators. 
Maine  of  her  timbered  forests,  Nevada  of  her  silver, 
California  of  her  gold,  and  Massachusetts  of  her  noble  schools;  but 
Washington  is  rich  in  all  of  these,  or  in  the  promise  and  expecta- 
tion of  them  all.  In  this  new  Florida  of  the  Japan  rivers  and  airs 
that  we  call  "  Chinook  "  is  Nature  s  masterpiece  of  America.  It  is 
bounded  on  the  south  by  the  imperial  Columbia,  the  most  beautiful 
of  all  American  rivers,  and  is  walled  on  the  north  by  mountains  that 
surpass  the  Alps ;  along  its  western  forests  rolls  the  Pacific,  and  from 
the  sky  everywhere  crystal  mountains  look  down  like  domes  in  the 
heaven,  on  forests  and  plains  of  eternal  verdure,  soon  to  be  changed 
into  summer  seas  of  billowy  grain.  ..         , 

SEATTLE  THE   WONDERFUL. 

Beautiful  is  Elliott  Bay  with  its  purple  waters,  its  deep  harbors,  and 
its  majestic  bluffs.  Mount  Tacoma  (Rainier)  seems  to  hang  over  it 
like  a  silver  tent  of  some  vanished  god;  the  mountain  seems  to  glisten 
everywhere,  though  so  far  away.  It  haunts  the  heavens.  One  turns 
toward  it  always,  for  in  the  changing  light  it  is  never  twice  the  same. 


m 


' 


SUNSET   0^f   THE    PACIFIC   COAST. 


Jfi 


mm»m 


Tm-:  NEW  STAR   OA   THE  FLAG. 


l^l 


One  sees  a  hundrcfl  Tacomas  in  a  single  day,  —  a  mountain  of  roses 
in  the  morning,  of  gold  at  noon,  of  sapphire  at  evening,  and  of  silver 
under  the  falling  curtains  of  night. 

The  Olympic  Range  as  seen  from  blue  Elliott  Bay  is  also  beauti- 
ful, though  not  as  beautiful  as  Mount  Tacoma.  Is  there  anything  in 
North  America  as  beautiful  as  that?  The  Olympic  Mountains  are 
a  sky-wall,  with  towers  and  pinnacles  frosted  with  everlasting  snow. 
The  sun  sinks  down   behind   them   and  tliey  are  on  fire. 

There  was  no  city  of  Seattle  a  few  years  ago.  only  a  lumber-mill 
and  a  few  houses  in  the  midst  of  an  apparent  wilderness.  Mar- 
vellous changes,  however,  are  often  wrought  in  these  Western  pioneer 
forests,  and  Seattle  was  destined  to  be  a  splendid  example  of  what 
push  and  endurance  can  do  toward   building  a  city  in   a  day. 

Suddenly  Seattle  became  a  port.  The  Canadian  Pacific  ran  into 
Vancouver,  and  the  Northern  Pacific  into  Tacoma,  and  steamers  plied 
between  the  two,  and  the  mid-sound  town,  with  its  open  road  to  the 
Pacific,  began  to  build,  and  to  multiply  its  inhabitants.  Capitalists 
came,  and  it  began  to  be  whispered,  "  Here  will  be  the  New  York  of 
the  Pacific,  the  rich  port  of  Asia  and  the  East.  The  story  of  the 
uncovered  wealth  of  iron  and  coal  and  precious  ores  in  the  territory 
around  Seattle  flew  abroad;  people  came  hurrying;  the  great  pine- 
trees  fell  before  the  axe  and  fire ;  houses  seemed  to  start  up  every- 
where ;  armies  of  hammers  seemed  to  be  inarching  over  all  the  hills, 
and  from    Lake   Union   to   Lake  Washington   the  wonder  grew. 

A  sunset  at  Seattle  is  a  glory  ever  to  be  remembered,  especiall) 
if  seen  f  -om  the  hills.  Glorious  Rainier,  as  the  people  here  still  call 
Mount  Tacoma,  the  crystal  Olympic  Mountains,  the  cool  blue  bay, 
the  deeply  shaded  bluffs,  the  evergreen  arcades  of  the  primeval  woods, 
the  over-sea  of  the  peaceful  sky,  the  poetic  mellowness  of  all  the 
splendor,  —  who  that  has  stood  on  the  hills  of  West  Seattle  in  a 
twilight  of  June  can  ever  forget  the  scene }  How  did  it  happen 
that  this  beauiiful  region  of  the  sea,  this  Vale  of  Tempe,  this  place 


i'^l  ^ '    II 


304 


ZIGZylG  JOURNEYS  IN  THE  GREAT  NORTHWEST. 


worthy  of  the  Golden  Age,  should  have  been  the  last  in  America  to 
become  settled ! 

The  electric-car  system  in  Seattle  is  the  most  rapid  and  daring 
that  we  have  seen.  The  cars  seem  to  race  over  the  hills  like  horses, 
and  stop  on  high  hills  with  the  ease  of  a  flying  deer. 


i,i   ' 


:  I 


'   ) 


From  one  of  the  far  inland  ranches  a  boy  came  to  Seattle  one  day  on 
a  mule.  When  he  had  last  seen  the  place  it.  was  a  town.  He  entered  West 
Seattle  slowly,  wondering  at  all  he  saw,  when  suddenly  a  car  without  horses 
went  flying  by,  emitting  lightning  from  its  wheels,  and  sweeping  over  the 
hill.  The  mule  saw  it  and  fled,  and  the  ranch-boy  was  as  alarmed  as  the 
mule. 

On  reaching  home,  he  told  his  father  what  he  had  seen,  —  a  car  without 
engine  or  horses. 

"It  was  drawn  by  nothing,"  said  he,  "and  its  wheels  were  on  fire." 

"Jack,"  said  the  old  ranchman,  "  I  have  always  held  you  to  be  an  honest 
boy  until  now.  But  no  car  was  ever  drawn  by  nothing,  or  ran  over  any 
hill  in  Seattle  alone." 

"  It  was  spirits,  father." 

"  Jack,  if  you  were  not  a  temperate  boy,  I  should  think  it  was  spirits 
indeed.     You  have  lost  your  senses,  Jack." 

The  old  man  was  greatly  distressed.  He  had  been  proud  of  his  boy's 
sense  of  honor  and  his  sound   mind. 

In  the  course  of  a  few  weeks  Jack  met  with  an  accident,  and  sickened 
and  died. 

"  I  never  knew  that  boy  to  do  wrong  but  once,"  said  the  old  ranchman  to 
the  minister  who  attended  the  funeral,  "  and  that  was  when  he  told  me  that 
he  saw  a  err  in  Seattle  drawn  by  nothing.  He  also  said  that  Seattle  was 
a  great  city.  I  could  forgive  him  that,  for  he  did  not  know  what  a  great 
city   is." 

JacK  was  buried;  but  his  supposed  falsehood  haunted  the  mind  of  his 
old  father.     Had  Jack  really  lied? 

"  I  will  go  and  see,"  said  the  old  ranchman  at  last. 

He  started  away  from  the  valley  on  the  same  mule  that  had  borne  the 
boy  when  he  had  seen  the  mysterious  car  that  might  have  amazed  Baron 
ivlunchausen.  He  rode  slowly  up  the  hill  of  W'est  Seattle  overlooking  the 
surrounding  country. 


smammm 


THE  NEW  STAR   ON  THE   EL  AG. 


305 


Suddenly  the  mule  stopped ;  then  began  to  back.  A  car  glided  by  with 
flashing  wheels,  without  horse  or  engine.      The  mule  turned  and  ran. 

"  I  have  seen  the  Evil  One  with  my  own  eyes,"  said  the  ranchman.  "  I 
don't  know  what  the  world  has  come  to  at  last;  but,  thank  Heaven!  my  boy 
Jack  spoke  the  truth." 


AN   EVENING  AT  SEATTLE. 

I  shall  never  forget  a  scene  I  once  saw  in  Seattle  soon  after  the 
great  fire. 

The  crimson  flush  of  twilight  quivered  over  Puget.  Sound,  and 
the  crown  of  Mount  Rainier  lighted  up  for  the  last  time  in  the  after- 
glow of  the  dying  day.  There  was  the  sound  of  a  drum  in  the 
streets,  a  rattle  and  jingle  of  tambourines,  and  a  red  flag  came  sweep- 
ing by,  followed  by  a  procession  of  decently  dressed  men  and  women 
singing  a  lively  tune.  The  musical  company  wheeled  on  to  a  plateau 
near  the  Hotel  Belleview,  planted  their  flag,  and  knelt  down  in  a 
circle. 

"The  Salvation  Army,  I  declare!"  said  a  speculator.  "They  are 
a  disgrace  to  Seattle ; "  and  he  put  on  his  hat  and  left  the  veranda 
to  enter  a  saloon. 

It  was  Saturday  night,  after  one  of  the  great  days  of  emigration, 
and  the  streets  were  filled  with  people,  many  of  whom  were  taking 
their  first  view  of  wonderful  Mount  Rainier  and  the  blue  Puget  Sound. 
Tiiere  was  a  tramp  of  feet  everywhere  on  the  miles  of  wooden  pave- 
ments. Saloons  blazed;  it  was  a  harvest  night  for  all  those  places 
which  spring  up  so  quickly  in  a  new  city,  and  from  wiiich  Seattle  — 
a  moral  city  —  is  not  free. 

I  passed  from  the  hotel  to  the  plateau.  It  was  nearly  nine 
o'clock,  but  still  light,  and  the  great  tent  of  Mount  Rainier  still  glistened 
in  the  high  air.  I  expected  to  hear  some  minstrel  songs,  some  comical 
and  excited  talking,  and  to  witness  sundry  sensational  performances 
such  as  I  hid  witnessed  under  similar  circumstances  in  the  East. 


!  If 


V 


■  Ptjto'-'^'V  •^■•■:**- 


1  I 


m 


.1 


4 


?1 


306 


ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS  IN  THE   GREAT  NORTHWEST, 


The  army  was  kneeling  in  a  great  circle  in  the  open  lot,  under 
the  northern  twilight  with  its  glimmering  of  stars.  Orderly  men 
and  women  were  gathering  around  them,  and  the  circle  widened  and 
widened  until  a  great  concourse  of  people  was  gathered,  all  reverent 
and  devout  as  in  a  church.  There  were  prayers,  songs,  and  then 
came  the  "  testimonies." 

The  pleasure-seeking  critic  from  the  East  might  have  sneered 
at  the  scene.  But  brave  men  were  here,  —  men  who  had  faced  the 
cannon  in  the  old  campaigns ;  men  who  had  beaten  down  the  wilder- 
ness and  opened  the  highways  of  progress ;  and  better  yet,  men  who 
had  overcome  their  own  passions,  the  saloon,  and  all  the  ruinous 
excitements  incident  to  pioneer  life. 

Indians  were  there,  negroes,  men  who  had  been  intemperate, 
and  both  men  and  women  with  whom  passion  had  been  stronger 
than  conscience  and  will.  One  spirit  animated  all,  —  the  desire  to 
be  free  from  the  enchainment  of  sin. 

It  was  ten  o'clock  when  the  great  concourse  dispersed.  Puget 
Sound  was  a  shadow,  and  Mount  Rainier  a  ghost.  The  moon  was 
shining. 

"  That  was  better  than  the  saloon,"  said  an  observer  to  me. 

"  Yes ;  whatever  may  be  thought  of  the  Salvation  Army  this  was 
better  than  the  saloon." 

'       TACOMA   THE    BEAUTIFUL. 

Am  I  far  from  the  truth  when  I  say  that  Tacoma  is  the  most 
beautifully  situated  of  any  city  in  the  United  States.?  So  it  seems 
to  me,  and  I  have  been  in  most  American  cities.  The  poetry 
of  the  inland  seas  of  Puo:et  Sound  and  the  Gulf  of  Georiria  finds 
its  most  perfect  expression  in  Commencement  Bay.  The  high  bluff 
on  which  Tacoma  stands  was  covered  by  a  most  majestic  forest  be- 
fore the  city  rose  on  the  ashes  of  the  giant  trees,  and  it  commanded 


wmem, 


t^mmm 


THE  NEIV  STAR   ON  THE  FLAG. 


307 


the  most  glorious  scenery  of  the  places  of  the  Sound.  Here  Mount 
Tacoma,  like  a  bride  from  heaven,  stands  radiant  before  the  eye, 
burning  with  jewels. 
Here  flowers  fill  the 
winter,  and  Christmas 
roses  bloom  in  the  airs 
of  Japanese  seas.  Here 
the  woods  are  all  pil- 
lared cathedrals,  and 
the  country  all  a  won- 
derful park.  Wherever 
one    goes,    Mount    Ta- 


coma glimmers  on  his 
vision.  In  fact,  it  is 
so    for   a    hundred    miles 


MOUNT   TAGGMA.  ^O^l^lcCr 

Mount    Tacoma    is   everywhere   a   white 
mountain  of   snow  set  on  the  imperial  purple  of  the  sky. 
Says  Joaquin  Miller,  in  an  article  on  Tacoma:  — 

"  Sit,  in  fancy  at  least,  with  me  here  on  the  liigh  hill,  with  the  roar  of  ham- 
mers and  the  clatter  of  trowels  at  our  backs.  Let  us  turn  our  faces  toward  the 
east.  Under  the  steep  stone  wall  at  our  feet,  hugging  the  precipice,  which  is 
hung  with  wild  vines  and  countless  wild  flowers,  steals  the  continuous  car. 
These  streams  of  cars  pass  so  close  under  the  precipice  that  you  do  not  see 
them.  You  look  straight  down  into  the  deep  blue  waters  that  tide  in  from  the 
Japan  seas.  A  common  shot  across,  and  a  like  precipice,  with  the  ever  crowd- 
ing and  ever  crowning  density  of  green.  Then  a  little  to  the  right  the  preci- 
pice melts  down,  and  the  green  fir-trees  couch  the  silver  sands.  Then  the  sands 
sweep  in  a  crescent  about  the  head  of  the  sound ;  then  sea-marsh ;  then  the 
trees,  dense,  deep,  tall,  and  imperious,  for  ten,  twenty,  thirty,  forty  miles ! 
Up  !  up  !  up ! 

*'  You  start  to  your  feet,  — you  stand  with  your  head  uncovered  ;  for  above 
all  this  density  of  wood  and  out  of  and  above  all  this  blackness  there  gleam 
and  flash,   face  to  face,  the  everlasting  snows  of  Mount  Tacoma. 

"  He  silent,  as  I  should  be  silent.  It  is  an  insolent  thing  that  T  should  dare 
to  dwell,  even  for  a  single  paragraph,  in  the  idle  attempt  to  describe  the 
indescribable.  ' 


n 


h 


308 


ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS  IN  THE  GREAT  NORTHWEST. 


"  Out  of  the  blackness  and  above  the  smoke,  above  the  touch  of  pollution, 
above  the  clouds,  companioned  forever  with  the  stars,  Tacoma  stands  imperious 
and  alone. 

"  You  may  watch  the  boat  sail  by  at  your  feet  for  a  little  time,  but  some- 
how before  you  quite  know  it  your  head  will  turn  to  Tacoma. 

"  You  may  see  a  pretty  woman  pass  by  as  you  sit  here  on  the  high-built 
balcony  of  the  new  red  city  on  the  strong  right  arm  of  the  sea  of  seas ;  but 
somehow  she  becomes  a  part  of  Tacoma,  melts  into  the  mountain  of  snow,  and 
your  face  is  again  heavenward.  You  may  hear  a  wise  man  speak  of  the  actions 
of  great  men  as  you  sit  here;  but  somehow  his  utterances  seem  far,  far  away; 
your  heart  and  your  whole  soul,  —  they  have  gone  up  into  the  mountains  to  pray. 
And  it  is  well.  You  will  come  down  to  the  world  a  truer  and  a  better  man. 
You  will  descend,  but  never  entirely  descend.  Your  soul  will  in  some  sort 
remain  high  and  white  and  glorious.  You  can  never  again  come  quite  down 
to  the  touch  of  that  vvhich  is  unworthy,  for  you  have  been  companioned  with 
the  Eternal. 

"  The  mountains  of  Mexico,  and  California  as  well,  are  mountains  on  top  of 
mountains.  Rather,  I  should  say  that  the  snow-peaks  are  set  on  the  top  of 
mountain  ranges.  Not  so  here  in  the  northwest  of  our  Republic.  Moimt 
Hood,  or  rather  Mount  Pat-twa,  the  true  Indian  name  of  Mount  Hood,  starts 
up  from  the  water's  edge  of  the  Oregon  River,  and  springs  almost  perpendicu- 
lar in  the  air  to  its  full  height.  It  looks  as  if  it  might  blow  over,  so  steep  and 
slim  and  lone  and  unsupported  does  it  stand.  The  same  might  almost  be  said 
of  Mount  St.  Helen's,  and  most  especially  of  Mount  Tacoma. 

*'  As  I  may  have  said  in  this  paper  on  a  former  occasion,  the  higher  peaks  of 
Mexico  and  California  arc  merely  the  heads  of  well-raised  families.  But  not  so 
with  these  sublime  snow-peaks  of  the  north.  They  stand  entirely  alone.  The 
foundation  stones  of  Mount  Tacoma  are  laid  almost  in  the  sea.  And  so  you 
may  write  it  down  that  the  mountain  scenery  of  Oregon  and  Washington  sur- 
passes that  of  either  Mexico  or  California,  so  far  as  majesty  and  impressions 
are  concerned. 

"  Come,  then,  and  see  the  new  world,  and  look  up  and  wonder  what  fearful 
convulsions  fashioned  it.  Sit  with  us  in  the  wilderness,  and  get  the  balm  and 
the  balsam  of  the  fir-trees  in  your  fibre.  It  is  good  for  the  body  as  well  as  the 
soul  to  be  here  in  the  new  red  town  with  its  girdle  of  good  green  wood." 

One  of  the  first  questions  that  Charlie  asked  Mr.  Lette,  on  landing 
at  Tacoma,  was,  "  Where  is  the  pine-tree  tower?  " 


■UiB[J.    m^)h^ 


^iMJSri*xJk.x'..i?^i. 


^^t 


T//£  NEW  STAR   UN  THE  FLAG.  309 

"  I  had  not  heard  of  it,"  said  Mr.  Lette. 

"  It  is  the  oldest  church-tower  in  America,"  said  Charlie. 

"  But  Tacoma  is  the  youngest  city  in  America," 
said  Mr.  Lette. 

"  Yet  it  has  the  oldest  church-tower  in  the 
States,"  said    Charlie.     "  So   I 
have    read.     Let  us    try  to  .   /:*•    •^^••;- 

find  it." 

Charlie  stopped  a  car. 
"  Where  is  the  church  of  the 
pine-tree  tower .? "  he  asked 
of  the  conductor. 

"In  old  Tacoma.  We 
go  there." 

"Let  us  go,"  said 
Charlie. 

They  rode  out  of  the 
new  city  looking  down  on 
the  islanded  bay,  and  came 
to  a  quiet  suburb,  which 
was  the  original  town. 

"  There  it  is,"  said  the 
conductor.  "  Six  hundred 
years  old,  they  say.  There, 
don't  you  see  it,  with  lad- 
der, bell,  and  cross }  " 

A  little  chapel  half  cov- 
ered with  ivy  rose  before 
them,  attached  to  a  leaning 
tower,  on  which  was  a  bell 

and  cross.     This  tower  had  been  a  colossal  pine  or  fir  tree.     It  had 
been  sawed  off  high  in  the  air,  and  tiie  chapel  attached  to  it,  and  the 


THE  OLDEST   CHURCH-TOWER    IN    AMERICA. 


: 


j: 


zsrafffit^i ,  <iir'Sgniu3Mf»ffiKS»<S(BBMpMP 


W\^ 


\iH 


310 


ZIGZAG  yOURNEVS  JN  THE  GREAT  NORTHWEST. 


bell  hung  upon  it.  The  base  was  green  with  the  most  luxurious 
English  ivy  that  Mr.  Lette  had  ever  seen.  The  altar  also  was  cov- 
ered with  living  ivy  that  had  grown  through  the  side  of  the  building. 


'i  i  '  i  i 


W 


THE   FOREST  GIANTS. 

Tacoma  was  once  the  seat  of  the  great  giants  of  the  forest.  One 
could  hardly  believe  that  these  armies  of  trees  had  been  overthrown, 
did  not  the  stumps  remain.  A  recent  writer  says  of  these  giants  of 
the  Sound  country:  — 

"  Plying  on  Puget  Sound  is  a  boat  one  hundred  and  twenty-two  feet  long. 
The  timbers  of  which  the  hull  is  built  run  from  stem  to  stern,  and  not  one 
is  spliced.  As  a  specimen  product,  a  Washington  lumberman  sent  to  San 
Francisco  last  year  a  beam  twenty-four  inches  thick  and  one  hundred  and  fifty- 
two  feet  long,  writes  a  correspondent  of  the  St.  Louis  '  Globe-Democrat.'  He 
explained  that  his  intention  was  to  make  it  one  hundred  and  ninety  feet  long, 
but  the  end  ran  into  a  bank  and  the  log  had  to  be  cut.  Spars  for  ship-yards  on 
the  Clyde,  in  Scotland,  are  shipped  from  Puget  Sound. 

"  At  a  mill  in  Portland  you  may  see  the  timbers,  sawed,  mortised,  painted, 
and  numbered,  for  bridges  to  be  put  together  in  Michigan,  Ohio,  and  Indiana. 
Puget  Sound  cedar  shingles  are  used  in  New  York  State.  Four  ships  are  load- 
ing at  a  Sound  wharf,  all  with  lumber.  One  goes  to  London,  the  second  to 
Melbourne,  the  third  to  Valparaiso  the  fourth  to  San  I'rancisco.  A  test  was 
made  not  long  ago  of  four-inch  sticks  of  Washington  fir,  Michigan  pine,  and 
good  white  oak.  The  pine  broke  at  seventeen  hundred  pounds,  the  white  oak 
at  thirty-five  hundred  pounds,  and  the  Washington  fir  at  forty-three  hundred 
pounds.  Engineers  say  the  straining  force  and  endurance  of  this  fir  lumber  is 
greater  than  that  of  any  other. 

"  When  one  of  these  monarchs  of  the  coast  forest  goes  down,  it  shakes  the 
ground  like  an  earthquake.  Let  it  fall  across  a  caHon,  and  it  doesn't  snap 
under  the  tremendous  shock,  but  lies  intact  and  rigid.  There  is  a  bridge  in 
Oregon  acrofis  a  ravine  sixty  feet  deep,  made  by  spiking  a  plank  on  a  tree 
where  it  foil  b)'  accident.  Where  a  windfall  in  the  forest  has  occurred,  these 
great  timbers  lie  so  thick  that  tlic  only  way  to  cross  is  to  walk  on  the  trunks 
from  ten   to  thirt\'  feet  above  the  ground. 

"  Lumbermen  tell  of  travelling  for  miles  and  not  once  putting  their  foot  on 
the  soil." 


jxurious 
vas  cov- 
llding. 


;t.     One 

rthrown, 
yiants  of 


"eet  long, 
not  one 
t  to  San 
and  fifty- 
rat.'  He 
"eet  long, 
-yards  on 

painted, 

Indiana. 

are  load- 

econd  to 

test  was 

Dine,  and 

fliite  oak 

hundred 

umber  is 

akes  the 
n't  snap 
Dridgc  in 
>n  a  tree 
ed, these 
le  trunks 

r  foot  on 


tsmmmm 


MuCS* 


r 


? 


KoKKST    (;i.\NTS. 


aaiiflti^^^SJiBME.  ^Ktiii  *  ^fcii  rr  '^PW 


THE  NEW  STAR  ON  THE  FLAG. 


313 


THE  SURPRISE  OF   MOUNT   HOOD. 

The  beautiful  river  of  America  is  the  Columbia,  and  no  stream  can 
bring  to  the  traveller  a  greater  surprise.  Leaving  Portland,  Oregon, 
in  an  early  morning  boat,  one  is  borne  along  past  Vancouver,  and  the 
historic  places  of  the  old  Hudson  Bay  Company  and  early  United 
States  trading-posts,  into  the  calm  waters  of  the  salmon  fisheries,  and 
under  bluffs  of  crumbling  and  ruined  rock  mountains.  We  will  sup- 
pose the  time  to  be  June  ;  for  the  Columbia  River  in  June  is  in  its 
glory.  The  beauty  is  continuous,  and  it  becomes  monotonous  when 
one  settles  down  to  read  or  to  doze  in  the  sun.  The  boat  halts  anon 
to  give  bait  to  the  fishermen.  Suddenly  the  ourist  starts.  What  is 
it  that  confronts  him }  Has  a  mountain  come  down  to  the  shore  to 
meet  him  t  He  might  say,  "  There  is  God,"  half  believing  it.  In 
a  moment  a  mountain  is  brought  to  his  vision,  —  a  dead  volcano, 
twelve  thousand  feet  high,  mantled  with  snow,  and  gleaming  with 
glaciers.     It  is  Mount  Hood. 

It  is  said  that  a  State  takes  the  character  of  its  earlv  settlers.  Tlie 
founders  of  Washington  and  Oregon  were  heroes,  both  the  Protes- 
tant missionaries  and  the  Jesuit  fathers.  The  story  of  Whitman,  the 
frontier  missionary,  is  one  of  the  grandest  in  the  pioneer  history  of 
America.  He  crossed  the  Rocky  Mountains  with  his  young  bride, — 
this  one  man  who  in  himself  was  an  army ;  Rev.  Dr.  Spaulding  and 
his  bride  came  with  him.  When  they  looked  down  from  the  Rockies 
and  saw  the  valley  of  the  Columbia,  they  opened  the  Bible,  and  raised 
over  it  the  United  States  flag,  and  took  formal  possession  of  the  whole 
land  for  liberty  and  God.  Years  passed.  There  was  danger  that  the 
great  region  would  become  lost  to  the  States  by  the  diplomacy  of  the 
Hudson  Bay  Company.  Whitman  resolved  to  leave  his  mission  sta- 
tion at  Walla  Walla,  and  make  a  circuitous  route  out  of  the  way  of 
hostile  Indians  to  Washington,  to  tell  the  statesmen  there  how  glo- 
rious this  territory  was.     He  made  the  ride  alone.     He  was  at  first 


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ZIGZAG  JOURNEYS  IN  THE   GREAT  NORTHWEST. 


coolly  received  at  the  Capitol,  but  his  famous  ride  saved  to  the  States 
the  vast  empire.  Whitman  went  back  to  Walla  Walla,  and  was  there 
killed  by  the  Indians.  A  noble  monument  is  to  be  erected  over  his 
remains,  or  near  the  old  mission  post. 

In  connection  with  these  short  accounts  of  the  cities  of  the 
Pacific  Coast  we  must  not  forget  that  early  explorer  of  the  Pacific 
Ocean  and  circumnavigator  of  the  world,  Sir  Francis  Drake,  whose 
name  recalls  an  interesting  incident  which  occurred  just  before 
his  defeat  of  the  Spanish  Armada. 

SIR  FRANCIS   DRAKE. 

Sir  Francis  Drake,  the  famous  English  explorer  of  the  Eliza- 
bethan period,  obtained  a  view  of  the  Pacific  Ocean  from  the  Isth- 
mus of  Darien.  Being  imbued  with  the  spirit  of  adventure,  he 
returned  to  the  Atlantic  and  there  embarked  in  December,  1577, 
in  five  small  vessels,  on  a  buccaneering  expedition  to  the  Pacific. 
He  sailed  through  the  Straits  of  Magellan  and  obtained  immense 
treasures  by  plundering  along  the  coast  of  Chili  and  Peru.  Sail- 
ing northward  along  the  coast  of  California,  he  was  overcome  with 
the  desire  to  discover  a  northwest  passage  to  the  Atlantic  Ocean ; 
but  on  arriving  at  the  Island  of  Vancouver  he  retraced  his  way 
to  San  Francisco,  and  thence  steered  across  the  Pacific  to  the 
Moluccas,  returning  to  England  by  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope  in 
1579,  having  circumnavigated  the  globe. 

He  was  knighted  by  Queen  Elizabeth,  who  in  1587  appointed 
him  commander  of  a  fleet  and  sent  him  to  "  singe  the  King  of 
Spain's  beard," — meaning  to  burn  his  ships  in  the  Spanish  harbors. 

The  name  of  Vice-Admiral  Drake  is  popularly  associated  with 
the  splendid  victory  of  the  English  fleet  over  the  flower  of  Spain, 
the    Invincible    Armada.     The   opening   incident   of  the   short   and 


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THE  NEW  SPAR   ON  THE  FLAG, 


317 


decisive  struggle  when  the  ships  of  the  enemy  were  first  sighted 
has  always  had  a  romantic  interest  so  far  as  it  applies  to  the  courage 
and  coolness  of  England's  gallant  defenders.  The  story  is  that 
the  High  Admiral,  Lord  Howard  of  Efifingham,  and  his  captains 
were  playing  a  match  on  the  bowling-green,  on  the  well-known 
Hoe  at  Plymouth.  One  Fleming,  the  master  of  a  Scotch  priva- 
teer,—  for  the  seamen  of  the  land  of  John  Knox  were  concerned 
in  the  coming  conflict,  —  running  before  the  wind,  entered  Plymouth 
Harbor,  and  learning  where  the  Admiral  was,  hastened  to  announce 
that  he  had  seen  the  Spanish  fleet  off  the  Cornish  coast.  Some 
of  the  captains,  at  this  exciting  information,  were  for  ending  the 
game,  and  a  shouting  for  the  boats  was  heard.  Drake,  however, 
did  not  show  any  excitement  whatever,  remarking,  as  he  continued 
his  play,  "  There  is  time  enough  to  finish  the  game  and  beat  the 
Spaniards  too." 

Such  courage  as  this  in  the  face  of  one  of  the  greatest  dangers 
that  ever  overshadowed  good  old  England  is  indeed  heroic,  showing 
of  what  material  the   famous  s'^a-king  was  made. 

Charlie  Hampden  left  Mr.  Lette  at  Walla  Walla.  He  crossed 
Montana,  stopped  awhile  at  the  ranch-home  of  Helena,  and  then 
returned  over  the  Northern  Pacific  to  Rhode  Island,  visiting  the 
National  Park  before  taking  the  direct  route  home.  He  returned 
with  the  resolution  to  make  a  home  for  himself  in  the  new  empire. 

"  The  next  great  American  emigration,"  he  said  to  Mr.  Lette 
as  they   parted,   "will  be  to    Montana.     I    thuik    I    will  go   there." 

His  visit  to  the  great  inland  empire,  and  the  study  of  its  pros- 
pects, confirmed  the  opinion  that  he  had  formed  and  the  resolution 
that  he  had  made.  He  assured  Helena  that  he  would  return.  She 
looked  very  happy  at  the  declaration  he  had  made,  and  her  father 
seemed  pleased. 

"When  you  come  again  —  "said  Helena. 


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ZJGZAG   JOURNEYS  IN  THE  GREAT  NORTHWEST. 


"  I  would  like   to  stay,"  answered   Charlie   to  the  half  sentence. 
"May   I?" 

"  Yes,"  said  Helena. 
"Yes,"  said  the  ranchman. 


r! 


It  was  a  quiet  fall  evening  in  old  Pokanoket.  Aunt  Mar  and 
Pielen  were  sitting  by  the   rekindled  fire,  and   Charlie  was  with  them. 

"  I  have  a  secret  to  tell  you,"  said  Aunt  Mar.  "  I  have  found  it. 
John  Hampden  did  come  to  America." 

"  How  do  you  know  ?  "  asked   Charlie. 

"  I  have  found  it  so  in  Baylies'  •  History  of  New  Plymouth.'  Let 
me  read  it  to  you."  . 

Aunt  Mar  read  :  — 

"  When  wandering  about  the  woods  of  Pokanoket,  or  along  the 
banks  of  Taunton  River,  or  sleeping  in  Indian  huts,  little  did  Hamp- 
den dream  of  the  fate  which  awaited  him  ;  little  did  he  think  that 
it  was  reserved  for  him  to  commence  the  overthrow  of  the  British 
monarchy,  and  to  shed  his  blood  in  the  first  daring  attempt  for  a 
free  constitution  in   England." 

"  Where  did  you   find  the   History .?  " 

"In  my   own   library." 

"  Who   was    Baylies  ?  " 

"  A  Congressman  and  historian-,  who  lived  in  the  very  place  of 
the  old  tradition.  He  was  born  at  Dighton,  Mass..  and  was  a  Taun- 
ton lawyer." 

■'  B'  t  he   may   have   been   misinformed." 

"  It  is  not  likely;  for  his  father.  Dr.  Baylies,  lived  to  a  great  age, 
and  he  must  have  been  familiar  with  the  old  settler's  views  and  actual 
knowledge  of  the  subject."  Aunt  Mar  added,  "And  now  I  am 
happy." 

"And  so  am   I,"  said  Charlie. 

"  You,  why,  —  because  the  tradition  is  true  ?  " 


.■^^..^-  ■^:.-'^^«<^..„...,.,m«^',^m^m  ^>-^ 


T//E  A'EIV  STAR   ON  THE  FLAG. 


19 


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"No;  because   I  am  engaged." 

"Engaged!   To  whom?" 

"  To  Helena ;    and  I  am  going  to  the  Northwest  next  year." 

"  Well,  well,"  said  Aunt  Mar,  "  you  are  rather  young  yet.;  but  1  do 
not  object;  it  is  a  great  country,  and  I  think  that  you  have  great 
reason  to  be  proud  of  your  name  and  ancestry,  I  rather  liked  that 
Montana  girl  and  her  mother;  and  when  you  go,  I  think  Helen  and 
I  will  go  too." 


nature's  monument,  CANADIAN   PACIFIC  COAST. 


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ri^MMMIMMMW'Mt 


ttMmmMhkM iiirrn  iTiitrrnni^ii 


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SIX    GIRLS. 

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Zigzag  Journeys  in  fiustralia, 

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(Jr,  a  Trip  to  the  American  Switzerland.  Giving  an 
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Northwest,  the  country  of  the  future. 

Zigzag  Journeys  in  the  British  Isles. 

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of  Scotland.  Replete  with  legend  and  romance.  Over 
ino  illustrations. 

Zigzag  Journeys  in  the  Antipodes. 

'1  his  volume  takes  ilie  reader  to  Siani,  and  with  delightful 
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Zigzag  Journeys  in  India; 

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Zigzag  Joarneys  in  the  Sunny  South. 

In  which  the  Zinzag  Club  visits  the  Southern  .Sc.ites  and 
the  Isthmus  of  Panama.  With  romantic  stories  of  early 
voyagers  and  discoverers  of^he  American  continent. 
Seventy-two  illustrations. 


Zigzag  Journeys  in  the  Levant. 

An  account  of  a  tour  of  the  Zigzag  l.;iub  through  Egypt 
and  the  Holy  land,  including  a  trip  up  the  Nile,  and  visit 
to  the  ruins  of  Thebes,  Memphis,  etc.     114  illustrations. 

Zigzag  Journeys  in  Acadia  &  New  France. 

1 1  which  the  Zigzag  Club  visits  Nova  Scotia  and  Acadia  — 
"the  Land  of  Kvangeline,"  —  New  Brunswick,  Canada, 
the  St.  Lawrence,  Montreal,  Quebec,  etc.,  with  romantic 
stories  and  traditions  connected  with  the  early  history  of 
the  countrv.     102  illustrations. 

Zigzag  Journeys  in  Northern  Lands. 

From  the  Rhine  to  the  Arctic  Circle.  Zigzag  Club  in 
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119  illustrations. 

Zigzag  Journeys  in  the  Occident. 

A  trip  of  the  Zigzag  Club  from  P.oston  to  the  Golden 
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wonders  of  the  Yellowstone  and  Yosemite.  148  illustra- 
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Zigzag  Journeys  in  the  Orient.. 

A  journey  of  the  Zig/.ag  Club  from  Vii^nna  to  the  Golden 
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147  illustrations. 

Zigzag  Journeys  in  Classic  Lands; 

Or,  Tommy  Toby's  Trip  to  Parnassus.  An  account  of  a 
tour  of  the  Zigzag  Club  in  France,  Italy,  Greece,  Spain, 
and  Portugal.     124  illustrations. 

Zigzag  Journeys  in  Europe; 

Or,  Vacation  Rambles  in  Historic  l..ands  In  which  the 
Zigzag  Club  travels  through  England,  Scotland,  Hclgium, 
and  France ;  with  interesting  stories  and  legends.  126 
illustrations. 


4\ 


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Three.  Vassar  Girls  in  the  Tyrol. 

An  entertaining  cMcription  of  the  travels  of  our  Vassar 
friends  through  this  well-known  country,  civinR  an  inter- 
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"  Champ  "  and  otiiers. 

Three  Vassar  Girls  in  Russia  and  Turkey. 

During  the  exciting  scenes  and  events  of  the  late  Turko- 
Russian  war,  with  many  adventures,  both  serious  and 
comic.  Profusely  illustrated  from  original  designs,  by 
"  Ch  \mi'  "  and  others. 

Three  Vassar  Girls  in  France. 

A  story  of  thu  siege  of  Paris.  A  thrilling  account  of  ad- 
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their  terrible  struggle.  Ninety-seven  illustrations  by 
"Champ,"  DeTAiLLn,  and  Dk  Nruville. 

Three  Vassar  Girls  at  Home. 

Travels  througli  some  of  our  own  .States  and  Tenitories, 
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Three  Vassar  Girls  on  the  Rhine. 

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Three  Vassar  Girls  in  Italy. 

Travels  through  the  vineyards  of  Italy,  visiting  all  the 
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can, the  Catacombs,  etc.     107  illustrations. 

Three  Vassar  Girls  in  South  America. 

A  trip  through  the  heart  of  .South  .America,  up  the  Ama- 
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Three  Vassar  Girls  in  England. 

Sunny  memories  of  a  holiciay  excursion  of  three  college 
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Three  Vassar  Girls  Abroad. 

The  vacation  rambles  of  three  college  girls  on  a  European 
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Great  Grandmother' s  Girls  in  New  Mexico. 

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Great  Grandmother" s  Girls  in  France 

By  Elizabeth  W.  Champ.nev.     A  cliarniing  vuiunif  for 

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early  colonial  days — their  privations  and  courage. 
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THE   KNOCKABOUT  CLUB  ON   THE   SPANISH   MAIN. 

By  Fred  A.  Ober.     In  which  the  Knockabout  Club  visits  Caracas,  La  Guayra,  Lake  Maracaibo, 
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THE    KNOCKABOUT   CLUB   IN    NORTH    AFRICA. 

By  F'red  a.  Oeer.  An  account  of  a  trip  along  the  coast  of  the  Dark  Continent,  caravan 
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Fully  illustrated. 

THE    KNOCKABOUT   CLUB    IN    SPAIN. 

By  Fred  A.  Oher.  A  panorama  of  Seville,  the  Guadalquivir,  the  Palaces  of  the  Moors,  the 
Aihambra,  Madrid,  BuU-figlits,  etc.     Full  of  original  illustrations,  many  full-page. 

THE    KNOCKABOUT    CLUB    IN    THE   ANTILLES. 

By  Fred  A.  Ober.  A  visit  to  the  delightful  islands  that  extend  in  a  graceful  line  from  Florida 
to  South  America,  accompanied  by  a  "  Special  .'\rtist."     78  illustrations. 

THE  KNOCKABOUT  CLUB  IN  THE  EVERGLADES. 

By  Fred  A.  Ober.  A  visit  to  Florida  for  the  purpose  ef  exploring  Lake  Okecho^jee,  on  which 
trip  the  boys  encounter  various  obstacles  and  adventures  with  alligators,  etc.     55  illustrations. 

THE  KNOCKABOUT  CLUB  IN  THE  TROPICS 

By  C.  A.  Stephens.  Prom  the  ice-fields  of  the  North  to  the  plains  of  New  Mexico,  thence 
through  the  "  Land  of  the  Aztecs,"  and  the  wonderful  ruins  of  Central  America,  to  the  "Queen 
of  the  Antilles."     105  illustrations. 

THE  KNOCKABOUT  CLUB  ALONGSHORE. 

liy  C.  A.  .Stephens.  A  journey  alongshore  from  ISoston  to  Greenland,  with  descriptions  of 
seal-fishing,  Arctic  Scenery,  and  stories  of  the  ancient  Northmen.     137  illustrations. 

THE    KNOCKABOUT   CLUB   IN    THE   WOODS. 

By  C.  A.  Stephens.  A  boy's  book  of  anecdotes  and  adventures  in  the  wilds  of  Maine  and 
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YOUNG  FOLKS'  HISTORY   OF  THE   NETHERLANDS. 

A  concise  history  of  Holland  and  Relgium,  from  the  earliest  times,  in  which  the  author  goes  over  the  ground 
covered  by  Motley  in  his  standard  histories  of  these  most  interesting  countries,  and  brings  the  narrative  down  to 
the  present  time.     Hy  Alkxandek  Youkc;.      150  illustrations. 

YOUNG  FOLKS'  HISTORY  OF  AMERICA. 

From  the  earliest  times  to  the  pr  sent.  A  new  edition.  With  a  chapter  and  additional  illustrations  on  the  Life  and 
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YOUNG  FOLKS'  HISTORY  OF  MEXICO, 

Comprising  the  principle  events  from  the  sixth  century  to  the  present  time     By  Fked.  A.  Ohkr,  author  of   "  Camps 

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YOUNG  FOLKS'  HISTORY  OF  RUSSIA. 
By  Nathan  H.\skbll  Dole.     With  no  illustrations. 

THE    GREAT    CITIES    OF   THE   WORLD. 

YOUNG  FOLKS'  HISTORY  OF  LONDON. 

Witli  graphic  stories  of  its  historic  landmarks.     By  W.  H.  Ridbing.     With  100  illustrations. 

YOUNG  FOLKS'  HISTORY  OF  BOSTON. 

By  H.  BtJTTERWoRTH,  author  of  "  Zigzag  Journeys,"  etc.     With  140  illusvrations. 

CHARLOHE  M.  YONGE.      YOUNG  FOLKS'  HISTORIES. 

TOONG  FOIiKS'  BIBLE  HISTOKY.     With  132  illustrations. 

YOUNG  FOLKS'  HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND.    With  60  illustrations  by  De  Neuville,  E.  Bayard  and  others. 

YOUNG  FOLKS'  HISTOKY  OF  FRANCE.    With  84  illustrations  by  A.  D»  Neuville,  E.  Bayard  and  others, 

YOUNG  FOLKS'  HISTORY  OF  R03IE.     With  1 14  illustrations. 

YOUNG  FOLKS' HISTORY  OF  GREECE.    With  51  illustrations. 

YOUNO  FOLKS'  HISTORY  OF  GERMANY.     With  8a  illustrations. 

YOUNG    FOLKS'    EPOCHS    OF    HISTORY. 

YOUNG  FOLKS'  HISTORY  OF  THE  CIVIL  WAR. 

A  concise  and  impartial  account  of  the  late  war,  for  young  people,  from  the  best  authorities  both  North  and  South. 
By  Mrs.  C.  Emma  Cheney.     Illustrated  with  100  engravings,  naps  and  plans. 

YOUNG  FOLKS'  HISTORY  OF  THE  REFORMATION. 

In  Germany,  France.  England  and  other  Countries  By  Fred  H.  Allbn.  A  graphic  account  of  the  men 
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YOUNG  FOLKS'  HISTORY  OF  THE  QUEENS   OF  SCOTLAND. 

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By  Florence 
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leatly  bound  in 
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he  pocket,  and 
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pages).    Neatly 

$2.50 

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sd  "  the  apostle 

otherwise  than 


[iss  Parloa  has 
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US  to  do  justice 


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